If I'm In Love, PLEASE SHOOT ME!
by The Illustrious Crackpot
Summary: Edward is the one scout in Camp Kidney LEAST likely to ever get involved in anything too romantic. And yet he's suddenly tangled in a crazy romantic jumble of secrets, naivete, misunderstandings, and a celebrity crush in reverse. Can he possibly survive?
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Wow...this story has been "on-again"/"off-again"/"ignored-again"/"rediscovered-again" on my hard drive for the past TWO YEARS. Just thought I'd bring that up, because that fact terrifies me._

_Anyhow, judging by the story summary, you'd think I'd have some pairings to disclaim. Well, I don't. Part of this story is about the "romantic mystery" involved—who in this messed-up love scheme is going to end up with who, or if anyone's going to end up with anyone else at all, or what have you. So I'm not going to spoil anything for ANYONE by revealing information._

_...But, since I realize that some people don't like to read that sort of thing, I'll put out this warning right now: there WILL be some slash innuendos. Nothing obscene or over-the-top, and mainly in the interest of comedy, but they're still there. Just saying it now to avoid badly-shocked, disgruntled readers later on._

_Oh yeah, and any similarity between elements of this chapter and the episodes "Samson's Mail Fraud" and "The Engagement" is entirely coincidental, as I wrote this chapter over a month before either premiered. (See the first sentence of this author's note.) And as for "Wedding Bell Blues"...(twitch). Personally, I shall forever maintain that that episode was a dream sequence, but, for all intents and purposes, THAT. NEVER. HAPPENED._

_...Well, without further ado, on to Chapter 1._

**If I'm In Love, Please **_**Shoot Me**_

(by The Illustrious Crackpot)

Chapter 1: There's A New Squirrel In Town

"Oh, yes, of _course!_" chirped Squirrel Scout Denmother Jane Doe into her pastel pink telephone, twisting the cord around her fingers as she spoke. The blonde deer was extremely excited, and her eyes kept flicking back to the magazine open on her desk. "Don't worry, sir, your daughter will be _fine_. I promise you she's going to have a WONNNN-derful time here at Acorn Flats this week!"

The troop of Squirrel Scouts stood rigid before their Denmother's desk, hanging on to the audible side of the conversation with bated breath. At the front of the crowd was a mongoose with poofy pink hair, who was wringing her fists as she hopped up and down on her tiptoes.

"IS SHE COMING?" Patsy squealed. "IS SHE? _IS SHE?_"

Beside her, Gretchen, a lemon-tressed alligator, rolled her eyes and gave a quiet snort. "Cool it, Patsy. It's not that big a _deal_."

She was loudly contradicted on this point by the other Scouts, and a fistfight might have broken out if Miss Doe hadn't waved her hand frantically for silence. "Yes, sir," she continued brightly to the person on the other end, "we have plenty of room to accommodate her. No, no trouble at all, sir; after all, she is a Squirrel Scout too, and we never turn away a sister! ...Yes, I assure you that she will find the facility _very_ comfortable, and all of the girls are SO excited to meet a real live _celebrity!!!_"

All the Scouts except Gretchen nodded vigorously on this point, practically salivating.

Miss Doe let out a tittery laugh, the kind which, when heard, makes one think that the person making it is either ridiculously happy or missing some gray matter up top. "Ohoho! Oh, _yes_, sir, I'm sure she will...Of course, you wouldn't want her to stay in a hotel all by herself while you're preparing for your business meeting...You're certainly _welcome_, sir!"

She hung up to a loud and enthusiastic cheer from the assembled Squirrel Scouts, who began gossiping at the speed of light about what they were going to do during the coming week and how _exciting_ this whole thing was. After a moment, Miss Doe turned in her seat to face them, taking in a deep breath to steady her heartbeat, and proclaimed as though none of them had heard a single word:

"GUESS. _WHAT_."

* * *

—_Three days later_

If you were looking to advertise Camp Kidney as a "fun and exciting retreat for Bean Scouts", the advice you'd probably receive would be to enter extensive therapy. What nobody would bother to tell you, though, is that all you'd really need to do would be to set up some cameras on Mail Day.

On Mail Day, the day that bespectacled Bean Scout Samson made his weekly trip to the Prickly Pines post office, every single Bean in camp was assembled by the flagpole, waiting on tenterhooks for links to the outside world. If any one of them received no mail that week, he would beat Samson mercilessly with Scoutmaster Lumpus's loofah until the horrified guinea pig relinquished something, be it a business magazine or just plain old junk mail. Really, anything without a Kidney stamp in the corner was fair game and, seeing as there was generally a big enough stash of unpaid bills to divide amongst the Beans, they could exercise almost inhuman amounts of patience while awaiting the delivery.

But this certain Mail Day found the Beans _ravenous_, nearly reverted to primal states and tearing up anything they could lay their hands on. The Bean Scout flag lay in tatters, the P.A. utterly trashed, and much of the siding to the Scoutmaster's cabin ripped off and gnawed upon. Most of the campers were running around half-naked and screaming at the top of their lungs, punting Assistant Scoutmaster Slinkman like a football. Even the normally authoritative Lumpus had locked himself in his grape-juice cellar.

_Samson was LATE_.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE_YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHH!!!!!!_" screamed the guinea pig as he pedaled furiously, flames streaming behind the rapidly-spinning wheels of his bicycle. Shoving his inhaler into his mouth, Samson began hyperventilating at warp speed in an effort to keep from collapsing. He wasn't even wearing his helmet; after all, the injuries from a crash, even at this velocity, wouldn't even _begin_ to compare with what the other Bean Scouts would do to him if he was even two seconds later than he already was. "MERP MERP MERP MERP _MEEEEEEEEEEERP!!!_"

The eyes of every Scout immediately snapped towards the camp gate. A pair of dung beetles dropped a bruised and battered Slinkman on the ground, where the banana slug desperately clawed his way back to the Scoutmaster's cabin.

"LOOK!!" shouted the shorter of two orange loons—Dave—who had been in the middle of viciously throttling a tetherball pole. "**HE'S HERE!!!**"

Immediately the deluge of campers swept over Samson like high tide, jumping him before he was even within the camp boundaries and shredding violently through the mail in his bicycle basket. After a flurry of flying letters and scraps of gray Samson fur, the tide receded and the Scouts tore back to the flagpole with their respective prizes.

"I gots me a letter from my grammy!" cried Fred, a walrus, as he used his long tusks to ravage the envelope open.

Pingpong, the taller loon, waved a brightly-colored envelope excitedly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like a basketball. "I MAY ALREADY BE A _WINNER!!_"

Four identical lemmings stampeded across the courtyard, balancing a giant package in the shape of a killer whale on their shoulders. A hippopotamus ran off with Lumpus's back issues of _Highlights For Kids_. And, slightly more important to the plot, a tiny albino rhinoceros—Clam—jumped up and down, clutching a pile of flyers for washing machines. Moments later Lazlo, an orange spider monkey and even more important to the plot, approached Clam, observing the chaos with a slightly detached air.

"It's so nice to see people getting excited about their mail," Lazlo remarked, sighing whimsically. Seeing as he was still fully dressed in his Bean Scout uniform, it was clear to see that he hadn't been part of the fray.

Raj, an Indian elephant, crossed his arms and snorted derisively. "I _doon't_ see what de big DEAL ees. Eet's _joost_ a bunch of LETTERS!!"

Clam stopped jumping and stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, chuckling flatly. "Nice boxers, Raj."

"Thenk you."

Back at the camp gate, Samson lay twitching in a crumpled heap. He groaned, fumbling about for his glasses, and was just pushing himself up onto his elbows when a shadow stepped into his field of view.

"WHY WERE YOU _LATE?_" demanded a short, cream-furred platypus, glaring Spanish-Inquisitionishly down at the guinea pig. Although he _had_ been one of the ravenous mail-cravers, he had at least maintained the dignity to keep his clothes on.

Abandoning the search for his spectacles—which were too smashed to be of any use anyways—Samson leapt to his feet, trembling violently. "IT'S NOT MY FAULT, EDWARD!!!" he protested in a panicked voice, afraid that the platypus was going to beat him senseless (even though Edward had never actually made good on any of his frequent promises to do so). "I WAS AT THE SQUIRREL SCOUT CAMP, AN', AN', AN' _THEY HELD ME UP!!_ MEEEEEEEEEEEERP!"

Edward tapped his foot pointedly, placing both fists on his hips. "_How?_"

Practically entering respiratory arrest from these numerous traumas, Samson shoved his inhaler into his mouth again and took some more rapid puffs. "They were, they were settin' up for somethin', an' they said to go around, 'cus they didn't want me gettin' in the way of their _float_, an'—"

Whether Edward was surprised or disbelieving was hard to tell. Really, the only indication of such a mood shift lay in the fact that one eyebrow was arched higher than usual. "..._Float?_"

"Uh-HUH!" Samson nodded vigorously, stretching his arms out wide. "A _biiiiig_ pink one. An' it had lotsa' _ribbons_ on it, an' _flowers_ an' stuff—the flowers made my nose itch, an' I couldn't stop _sneezing_, an' that made me late too, an', an'—"

"OKAY, shut _up_ aw'ready!" snapped Edward, making Samson wince. He waited a second to make sure that this command would be obeyed, then went on. "Any mail fer _me?_"

The guinea pig was extremely relieved at the change of topic, and exhaustedly handed Edward a thick manila envelope that had somehow survived the attack of the postally-deprived Beans. The platypus snatched the package up violently, stalking back to the camp with his beaverlike tail raised high. He stormed all the way to his cabin, glaring at anyone unfortunate enough to be in his way until his door was slammed shut and he was safely inside with the blinds down.

Then he let out a high-pitched giggle.

Edward immediately dove for his bed, flopping belly-down on it and tearing open the envelope. Within moments his ratty, grayish pillow was glorified by the presence of _Veronica Monthly_, the official magazine for the avid Veronica Doll collector. And, if you could only see beneath Edward's bed, you'd know that he could be their poster boy.

Pulling his prized doll out of her Luxury German Dictator Suite™ (his latest purchase, only thirty dollars if you knew the right retailers), Edward greeted her with a quick snuggle and set her down on his bed, folding her legs so that she could sit up. "Hello, Veronica," he gushed, though keeping his voice down in case anyone happened to be passing by the cabin. He turned her head towards his, a wide smile on his face as he explained things to her. "I got da new magazine, Veronica. Wanna read it wit' me?"

Coughing experimentally—his voice had cracked the last time he'd tried this—Edward answered himself in a forced falsetto. "_Of course, Edward! Can you read it to me, pretty please? You're so GOOD at reading!_"

Edward giggled again, a fact that could have been easily used to blackmail him if anyone else had ever heard him do it. "SURE, Veronica! Anyt'ing for _you!_"

Flipping the glitzy, sparkly pink magazine open, Edward skimmed through the table of contents, pausing to admire the advertisements for the new Veronica merchandise. (The "Veronica Post-Apocalyptic World Fashion Mall™" was a sure buy.) However, he'd only gotten so far as the title of the first article when the cabin door flew open with a _bang._ Panic kicking him into action, he shoved all incriminating materials under his pillow and whirled around.

_Lazlo_. He might have known.

"EDWARD!" the monkey cried by way of greeting, running right inside without any further preamble. He grabbed Edward by the arm, beginning an extremely spirited attempt to haul him off his bed. "C'mon, Edward, you've gotta see this! There's something going on at Acorn Flats!"

The platypus tried and failed to yank his arm out of Lazlo's grasp. "Geez, Lazlo, don't you _knock?!?_" he demanded as Lazlo started dragging him towards the door. Edward dug his heels into the wooden floorboards in an attempt to resist, but Lazlo could be stronger than a bodybuilder if he really wanted something, and soon the pair was outside. "_What's_ goin' on?!?"

The question didn't even need answering, as even then he could see a round of fireworks explode over Acorn Flats, reflecting beautifully across the murky waters of Leakey Lake. Curious even against his will, Edward allowed Lazlo to pull him the rest of the way to the shore, where the other Bean Scouts (now mercifully _dressed_) were gathered in awe.

"What do you suppose eet's _for?_" Raj asked no one in particular, shielding his eyes as a particularly bright blast went off. "De Fourth uff July was two weeks ago!"

Chip and Skip, the dung beetle twins, blinked slowly, one right after the other. "Whoa," stated Chip in a husky drawl.

"Yeah," Skip confirmed, his pitch rising and falling at random intervals throughout the word. Then a pause. "That looks like what happened that time we didn't use the bathroom for a month."

"_Yeah_...'cept prettier."

Anyone who had been anywhere near the Dungs quickly scooted away.

Within moments, Lumpus and Slinkman arrived on the scene, having decided that the campers were now safe to approach. "Ah'right, what's goin' on?" snapped Lumpus, a bull moose with yellow-tinted glasses. He scanned the crowd for the guiltiest face he could find—guilty of _what_, he wasn't sure, but there's no one who could get HIM to admit that—and settled predictably on a small Brazilian spider monkey. "LAZLO! What've you done _this_ time?!!?"

Slinkman coughed meekly, raising a hand. "Er, Scoutmaster Lumpus, I don't think that—"

"QUIET, SLINKMAN! I DON'T PAY YOU TO _THINK!!!_"

"...Actually, yes you do, sir."

As this was a clear fact, Lumpus couldn't really argue with it, and so he chose to ignore it. Instead he marched up to Lazlo, getting right in the monkey's placidly grinning face. "WHAT DID YOU _DO_, LAZ—" he began again, but was cut off by another round of fireworks from across the lake.

"Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh..." "ooh"ed the campers in chorus. Edward gritted his teeth annoyedly, still tugging at his captured arm and shooting meaningful glares at the oblivious Lazlo.

Lumpus's eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and his arms dropped to his sides as he stared almost hypnotically at the explosions. "What're they _doing_, Slinkman?"

Within moments all of the Bean Scouts had turned to the Assistant Scoutmaster, as more often than not he had answers for any question imaginable—except, mysteriously, for "where do babies come from", but that was of little consequence at that moment. Slinkman's eye stalks shrank back self-consciously at the overabundance of staring, and he had to clear his throat several times before his voice would come out. "Er, I-I don't know," he replied, then with a sudden start he began rifling through the papers on his clipboard. "Wait a minute, I—" Finding the sheet he was looking for, Slinkman squinted down at it and ran over the text before turning back to the Scoutmaster. "Oh yes, if I recall, Denmother Doe informed me that a—" Another pause to double-check what he'd read. "—That a _celebrity_ is visiting Acorn Flats this week."

The Scouts gasped collectively, awed at the prospect of a _celebrity_ just across the lake from them—well, all except Edward, who'd finally managed to wrench his arm from Lazlo's grasp and was already starting back towards his cabin.

Scoutmaster Lumpus, however, hadn't heard a word past "Denmother Doe". At that point he'd gone completely starry-eyed, clasping his hands together and starting to squeal as his slightly-deranged mind formed its own conclusion. "IT'S OUR WEDDING CELEBRATION!!"

Slinkman cocked his head to the side, squinting one eye at the bull moose. "..._Sir?_"

Whipping around, Lumpus grabbed the slug by his nearly nonexistent shoulders and started shaking him back and forth, an insane grin spreading across his face. "OUR WEDDING CELEBRATION! _MISS DOE IS FINALLY GOING TO __**PROPOSE**__ TO ME, SLINKMAN!!!_" With a sudden gasp, though, Lumpus's eyes began to bulge in dawning horror. "But what'll I _wear?!!?_ I-I'm not READY for this, Slinkman! _Coldfeetcoldfeetcoldfeet_..." Teeth chattering, Lumpus jostled his Assistant Scoutmaster even more vigorously. "SLINKMAN! TELL HER TO WAIT! THE WEDDING'S _OFF!!!_"

Slinkman just stared at him in utter disbelief.

"NO! WAIT! I'LL GO WITH YOU!!!" Lumpus cried, voice rasping as it reached the upper octaves. Tucking the slug under his arm, the bull moose sprinted full-tilt towards the camp's rickety old dock, bodily throwing Slinkman into a nearby canoe before jumping in himself, paddling furiously with his hands. "JANE! _DON'T WALK DOWN THAT AISLE!!_"

Within moments, the Bean Scouts were standing alone on the shore.

"_Well!_" Lazlo began brightly after a short silence, clapping his hands together and turning to face his fellow campers. "Want to meet a _celebrity_, guys?"

"WOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

Edward, although he'd lingered by the shore in order to watch the full run of Lumpus's insanity, quickly became fed up again, spitting on the ground baseball-style and once more turning back toward his cabin. "_Whatever_, losers. I'm—"

He never got to finish that sentence, as he was soon bowled over by the mob of excited Bean Scouts in their rush to the other canoes and, unable to escape, got jammed in a small, cramped boat with at least eight other campers.

_Lucky_ him, he was wedged between the dung beetles' _armpits_.

With adrenaline fueling the Scouts' muscles, they landed at Acorn Flats mere moments after Scoutmaster Lumpus jumped out of his own canoe with a somewhat nervous Slinkman hoisted high above his head. The fireworks had since stopped, and the only sign of life in the camp was the bright light shining in the windows of the Food Terrace—presumably where everyone was.

"GANGWAY!!!" shouted Lumpus, barreling towards the door of the pastel-pink building. The Bean Scouts hurried after him, once more shoving a madly protesting Edward along in their midst. "_DON'T SAY A WORD TO THAT PREACHER, JANE!!!_"

Needless to say, their entrance was an incredibly dramatic one.

The Squirrel Scouts were all crowded in the middle of the room, a sea of turquoise skirts and orange vests surrounding some unseeable center. Denmother Doe stood near a magenta-clothed refreshment table with Miss Mucus, the irritable warthog warden of the camp, beside her. Hanging from the ceiling was a large banner proclaiming "WELCOME TO ACORN FLATS", with all sorts of streamers flying around and the pink float Samson had seen earlier tucked in a corner by the door. And yet, even with all of these amusing diversions to stare at, all eyes were locked on Scoutmaster Lumpus.

"...Um," said the moose simply as he realized that he was _not_, in fact, a bridegroom. He gave an embarrassed cough, then self-consciously set Slinkman on the floor and placed both hands behind his back. Given the situation, Lumpus decided that a winning smile was the best course of action, so he attempted one, though the cracks in his teeth marred the effect somewhat. "SOOOOO...what's the party for, ladies?"

Miss Doe didn't even seem to notice any peculiarity in Lumpus's unexpected arrival, even though Miss Mucus was audibly cracking her knuckles at him. "Ohhhhh, Scoutmaster _Lahm_puss!" she trilled, mispronouncing the moose's name once again as she approached him. "And the _Bean Scouts!_ My my, _what_ a SURPRISE!" She turned to the cluster of Squirrels, clasping her hands together warmly. "Girls, say hello to the Bean Scouts!"

"_Hello, Bean Scouts_," the majority of the Squirrels droned irritably—with the exception of Patsy, who waved excitedly at Lazlo. He didn't notice.

For a while there was an extremely awkward silence, accompanied by much shuffling of the feet and some angry glares at the Beans from Miss Mucus and various Squirrel Scouts. Then Miss Doe let off her trademark tittering laugh, waving a hand at some ridiculously silly oversight. "Oh, how _rude_ of me! You haven't met our resident CELEBRITY!! Oh dear goodness me, how _could_ I forget?" She gestured to the Squirrel Scouts to part and reveal the figure that they'd been crowding around, which they did with some visible reluctance. "She'll be staying at Acorn Flats for a week until her father finishes making arrangements for his _business meeting_. Oh, and she's SUCH an _ANGEL!!_"

At the moment that the mystery guest stepped out before the visitors, Edward had just managed to force his way to the front of the Bean Scout crowd, intending to ask Lumpus for permission to row himself back to Camp Kidney—and consequently placing himself at a perfect vantage point to see Acorn Flats's new guest.

As soon as the platypus spotted her, his face drained of all color, his eyes started to unfocus, and he could barely move his stiff bill enough to attain speech.

"V..._Veronica?_"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Symptoms of Insanity

It was her; there was no question about it. That was Veronica's face, Veronica's smile, her upturned bill, the perfectly-shaped eyes with that slightly coy expression, her lustrous, bouncy red curls...

But not Veronica's _body_. This platypus girl was short, smaller than Edward, and seemed his age or maybe slightly younger. And she was wearing a Squirrel Scout uniform, an outfit not listed in any of the _Veronica Monthly_ retail guides.

"Yes?" beamed the look-alike, smiling widely. Her voice was high-pitched and girlish, unlike the suave, dulcet tones he'd always imagined _his_ Veronica having. She curtsied a little, giggling. "I'm Veronica Webbs. My daddy's Arthur Webbs. He created the Veronica Doll company."

Lumpus made a derogatory _pffft_ noise, underscored by the disappointed groans of the Bean Scouts around him. "She's not a _real_ celebrity," he muttered disdainfully, crossing his arms.

Edward was somewhat less coherent, his head spinning and his senses beginning to fail. "_You_—you—you—the—I—oh—uh—the _doll_—"

Many Squirrel Scouts started tapping their feet impatiently, trying to will the somewhat confused Beans to leave, but Veronica just giggled again. "When I was little, Daddy made the Veronica doll so it'd look how he thought _I_ might when I grow up." The girl stepped closer to Edward, and he clutched reflexively at the hem of Scoutmaster Lumpus's uniform. Her smile grew wider and slightly more excited. "This's the first time I've met a _boy_ who noticed."

Lumpus slapped repeatedly at Edward's hands to try and force him to let go, but Edward hung on for dear life. Every pore on his body was sweating, knees knocking together and waffle-patterned tail arched high. His skin began heating up, dying his cream-colored fur with splotches of red. With each second that he watched the girl, memories of the doll Veronica flooded his mind: of the two of them playing together; eating ice cream; discussing life; hiding from his brothers and, later, fellow Bean Scouts; playing, laughing, and lov—

Veronica giggled a third time, leaning closer to Edward's face as a slight pink tinge lit up her bill. "I _like_ you."

This was too much. Edward dropped like a stone.

* * *

The excitement resumed at the sight of the unconscious Bean Scout on the floor, and within moments everyone was running around madly, whether to try and help the platypus, find some insurance forms to see if anyone had to be notified, or just get out of there before they were forced to do anything important. Somewhere in the middle of this, Clam, using his prodigious strength, managed to lift Edward above his head and march him out the door and towards Denmother Doe's living quarters, to which he was led by the panicky Denmother and an aggravated Miss Mucus. A large crowd of interested Bean Scouts paraded after them, headed by Lumpus and Slinkman and joined at the last moment by a giggly-yet-nervous-looking Veronica.

And then there was silence again.

"_Well_," stated a redheaded Squirrel Scout giraffe, there not being much else to say. Nina removed her glasses and rubbed them on her skirt, quickly putting them back on in case anything else exciting happened within the next few moments. "You don't see _that_ every day."

The large crowd of remaining Squirrels murmured assent, watching the Food Terrace's door with an air of indecision. Sure, most of them had medical training badges and probably could have been a big help, but they weren't quite sure if the "Assist Persons Who Need Assistance, Especially If They're Wealthy Or Otherwise Influential" part of their oath meant that they had to help a _Bean Scout_. If not, they wouldn't touch him—Beans were ICKY.

"Nope...no, you _don't_..." Patsy exhaled in agreement, then, cocking her head as if listening to the directives of an inner voice, began to skip placidly towards the door. "Now if you'll excuse me, ladies, I need to go see _Laaaaaaaaz_-looo before—"

She was cut off by what sounded like a miniature _explosion_, and every Squirrel in the room whirled around to find its source—_Gretchen_. The alligator's blonde curls were sticking straight up, hair crackling as if with static electricity, and her fists were clenched so tightly by her sides that her entire body was quivering. Steam shot out of her nostrils, and the strength of the heat radiated by her anger was rapidly changing the temperature within the Food Terrace.

"_GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!_" Gretchen finally screamed, pupils dilated in anger. She swung her fists through the air as if punching an invisible figure, an exercise that lasted for a full thirty seconds before she returned to speech. "THAT _BRAT!_ AAAAARGH!!!! SHE CAN'T JUST _DO_ THAT!!!!"

Nina and Patsy exchanged worried glances.

"Gretchen, she doesn't _know_ that you 'like' Edward," Nina hissed, her voice lowered to prevent the spread of that venerable secret to the other Scouts. "I'm sure that if you _talk_ to her about it—"

Gretchen clearly did _not_ want to talk. Rather, she cracked her knuckles ominously, narrowing her eyes at some distant point visible only to her. Clearly recognizing the danger signs, every Squirrel Scout besides Patsy and Nina scurried away, suddenly interested in performing maintenance checks on their cabins.

"Gretchen...?" Patsy began cautiously, extending her hand towards her friend's shoulder. Gretchen's arm snapped up, halting Patsy's gesture, and it almost seemed as though the alligator's fangs had just grown sharper.

"That girl's goin' _down_."

* * *

_Pink_, was Edward's first thought as he slowly regained consciousness. _It's all pink. No, really, there's so much pink I can't breathe._

_...Wait...what does pink have to do wit' BREATHING?_

He blinked rapidly, trying to sit up. He was on a pink little couch in the middle of his Veronica Super Psychotherapy™ playset, where just about everything was "pink" and "little", even the room itself. However, he didn't quite have time to wonder how he could possibly _be_ there (seeing as the playset wasn't exactly life-sized), because a petite cough to his left sent him bolt upright.

It was Veronica, the _real_ Veronica, the teenaged doll Veronica with the tall, slim figure and her long white Super Psychotherapy™ gown, even clutching the playset's mock-legal forms stating that she was seeing a psychologist about various eating disorders. She turned and smiled to him, and Edward smiled groggily back. _This_ was the Veronica he was used to. This was _his_ Veronica, his and only his.

"Hello, Veronica."

Veronica smiled sweetly at him with upturned eyes, clutching the papers close to her bill to try and hide her grin. Edward was just about to sigh dreamily when she asked in a high-pitched, girlish voice, "Are you okay?"

Edward let out a small shriek as the room dissolved into Denmother Doe's office, with the _other_ Veronica standing eagerly in front of him and the Bean Scout troop gathered in a circle around the perimeter of the room. He leaped behind Miss Doe's chair, which he'd been lying in moments before, and his knees started knocking so badly that the floorboards beneath him began to shake.

"Ummm...Edward?" Slinkman ventured, stepping forward and hesitantly tapping him on the shoulder. "Do you need some sort of medication?"

Edward didn't reply, his eyes locked on Veronica and his heart pumping blood at an astronomical rate. Then he swiftly grabbed hold of Slinkman and held the slug in front of him like a shield, backing rapidly away from Veronica and into the confines of the crowd of mildly bewildered but amused Bean Scouts. "GYAAAAAH!! _YOU'RE NOT HER, YOU'RE NOT HER, __**YOU'RE NOT HER...**_"

Veronica wouldn't be escaped so easily, though, as she advanced relentlessly towards the platypus boy, holding the papers out to him. "These are for you," she stated simply, still maintaining her eager smile even as Edward shoved Bean after Bean to the side in an attempt to keep away from her. The fact that there was still a rosy blush crossing her face didn't help much. "They're coupons for the Veronica Doll products...'cus you recognized me as the doll. And to make you feel better 'cus you fainted!!"

Normally Edward would have snatched up the papers and bolted out the door, but while surrounded by nearly two dozen male peers he was fully unable to admit that he would buy anything so _girly_. Had he been able to think straight, he might have insisted that his mother was a fan and that her birthday was coming up, but, seeing as Edward had just been through some heavy mental trauma, all he could do was _run_. Elbowing Scoutmaster Lumpus and Denmother Doe (freshly returned from the infirmary with a first-aid kit) out of the doorway, Edward sprinted from the building as fast as his skinny legs could carry him, hurtling down to the shore of Leakey Lake and, forsaking all matter of watercraft moored on the nearby dock, dove headfirst into the water and started swimming like his life depended on it.

"Oh _my_," was all Miss Doe could think to say as she stood sprawled against Lumpus, where Edward had inadvertently pushed her. Lumpus was quivering all over as he attempted a nonchalant grin, his wide-brimmed Scoutmaster's hat knocking madly against his antlers. Miss Doe might have stood there dizzily for hours if Slinkman hadn't coughed pointedly, at which she gasped and drew hurriedly back from the Scoutmaster. "OH...Scoutmaster _Lump_us, I'm so SORRY!"

Lumpus groped blindly for a handkerchief, his eyes slightly unfocused with his gaze directed nowhere in particular. Finally he managed to locate Slinkman's necktie, which he pulled up, slug and all, to mop his forehead. "Heh...heh heh...th-th-think nothing of it, Miss D-Doe..."

"What's up with _Edward?_" Samson wondered aloud (though a bit belatedly). He was quickly making extensive notes of the platypus's behavior in case he had ever exhibited the same symptoms himself—he had a huge binder full of medical reports on every illness he'd ever succumbed to, and hoped he could find the name of Edward's unfortunate condition, if only to prove that he could identify it.

Pingpong chuckled indulgently, sharing a meaningful look with his brother. "Maybe it's _egg season_ again."

The Bean Scouts guffawed merrily over this, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. They didn't hear Veronica let out a gasp of air, or see the girl's beaverlike tail spring up, her grip on the coupons tightening. "His name's _Edward?_" she inquired breathlessly, rising onto her tiptoes only to drop down again. She heaved a small sigh, squeezing her eyes shut. "_Ed_ward..."

So saying, Veronica traipsed delicately out the door, very few of the chattering Beans noticing her departure except for Lazlo. Staring confusedly at the suddenly-empty doorway, he scratched his head, long tail curving into the shape of a question mark.

"Does she kinda remind you of Patsy?" he asked at length, turning to Raj.

The Indian elephant shrugged, then sniffed indignantly, though he really had nothing to be indignant over. "I guess so. How come girls get so starry-eyed und _giggly_ all de time? Eet's joost _weird!!_"

Clam just blew a small raspberry, cracking a mischievous grin as he eyed his two best friends. "_Ohhhhhhhhh_-blivious."

And no matter who asked him, he refused to explain what he meant.

* * *

Long afterwards, Edward sat huddled on the floor of his cabin, knees knocking raucously against each other and his Veronica doll clasped possessively against his wet chest. He hunched his shoulders up, trying desperately to stop hyperventilating. It didn't matter that he was thoroughly soaked, extremely uncomfortable and a little grimy from the lake water—it just mattered that he was _far away_ from that girl.

"What should I do, Veronica?" Edward asked in a strained, cracked voice, searching the doll's face for an answer. She just smiled serenely, poofy red curls bouncing as the hands gripping her shook ever more violently. "This ain't right...she looks just like _you_. An'...an' I can't—"

"Edward's skippin' like a _record!_ Hey, Edward, do another trick!"

With a high-pitched yelp, Edward spun around to see Chip and Skip, who'd apparently walked in at some point before and had been standing there for quite a while. Skip leaned sideways, squinting at the platypus. "Are you talkin' to that doll, Edward?"

Edward shoved Veronica under his bed, jumping to his feet. "There's no doll," he answered a little too quickly. "What're you talkin' about? You didn't see nuttin'!"

Skip blinked slowly, then turned to his brother. "We _didn't?_"

Chip shrugged, his pupils drifting in different directions. "I guess not."

All three of them stood there in awkward silence for a moment, then Skip made a small spasm and pointed directly at the platypus. "Hey, look, it's _Edward!_ HIIIiiiiiIIIIIIiii!"

Edward's eye twitched, and he grinned nervously through chattering teeth. "H-h-_hi_."

More awkward silence.

"Weren't we s'posed to do somethin'?" asked Chip, though he was looking in the opposite direction from his brother.

"I dunnoooooooooo..." Skip shrugged. Neither of them seemed to notice that Edward was inching cautiously towards the still-open door, clearly planning to escape. Then suddenly Skip slammed his fist into his open palm, making such a loud noise that Edward jumped. "Oh YEEEEEEah...wasn't it somethin' like...like..."

"A HEARSE!" cried Chip.

Edward broke out in a cold sweat. _They're gonna freakin' __**kill**__ me!!!_

"Noooooooo...no, that wasn' it..." Skip stuck his tongue out of his mouth, following which some of the dung beetle's personal flies landed on it for a pit stop. "A PURSE! THAT MOOSE GUY IS GONNA GIVE HIM A PRETTY PURSE!"

This was so unlike Scoutmaster Lumpus that Edward didn't even get his hopes up. Instead, he began searching for loose floorboards in case he could burrow out of the cabin instead.

"A _curse!_ It's a CURSE!!"

"No! It's, um, a UNIVERSE!"

"C'moooooon...um...uh...waiiiiit...it's comin' to me, it's comin'—"

There was a sharp rap on the doorframe, and a moment later Slinkman poked his eye stalks inside the room. "Chip? Skip? Did you send Edward to the nurse yet?"

Upon spotting Edward trying to tug a rusty nail out of the floor with his teeth, Slinkman gave a weak smile. "Oh...heh...there you are, Edward...you're to report to Nurse Leslie immediately." The last part came out rather quickly.

With a noise that was halfway between a groan and a whimper, Edward reluctantly spit out the nail and stood up, following Slinkman out the door. Chip and Skip hadn't noticed at all, continuing with their conversation like it was the only thing in the world with meaning.

"It's a VERSE! I _loooooooove_ sing-alongs!"

"No, you dummyhead...it's a whatcha'callit...REIMBURSE!"

"...Wassat mean, Chip?"

"I dunno...saw it on TV."

"On that weird show thingy where the words come up at the end?"

"Yeaaaaaaah...THAT one."

"Oh, I seen it a _millyun_ times."

"Me too...I wonder if it's on anymore..."

* * *

Edward tried his hardest to remain still while Nurse Leslie stared disconcertingly at him. That was all the pink shark had done for the past ten minutes that Edward had been sitting on the examination table, sweating and fidgeting. The nurse hadn't even seemed to blink at all during that time...either he didn't feel that he _needed_ to blink, or he'd been coordinating his blinks with Edward's own just to freak him out. Either way, it was starting to get on his nerves.

At length, Slinkman cleared his throat and began scuffing his black shoes against the tiled floor, trying to convey the impression that Nurse Leslie should hurry up. Scoutmaster Lumpus had threate—er, ASKED the slug to go to town and buy him some comfort chocolate for the loss of his "wedding", and taking Edward to the nurse was supposed to have been a small side trip. And if there's one thing that every Bean Scout knows, it's that a moose craving chocolate can be extremely violent if not appeased.

..._Chocolate moose_. Heh...heh...aheh...ah, whatever.

"Um, Nurse Leslie," Slinkman spoke up, seeing as his subtle hints hadn't seemed to affect the shark's behavior, "don't you think you should—"

"Stick out your tongue," Nurse Leslie interrupted, his tone flat and emotionless. Startled, Slinkman opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue.

"...Not _you_, the _platypus_."

Grumbling a bit, Edward stuck out his tongue. Leslie stared at it just as disconcertingly as he'd stared at the rest of Edward, then leaned backwards in his chair, grabbed a cotton swab from a nearby can and ran it up and down Edward's tongue. He then stared at the end of the swab, flipping over some papers on his clipboard and staring at _them_, then threw the swab into a trash can and turned back to Edward. "Now hold out your knee."

Edward grabbed his left leg and presented his knee to Nurse Leslie. The shark cocked his head to the side, shutting his blue-tinted eye and studying the situation with his other one. Scribbling something on his clipboard, Leslie pulled out a hammer and whacked Edward's knee with it. Edward let out a yelp of pain.

"Very good," Nurse Leslie commended, checking his clipboard again. "Now, sit up."

Edward's spine straightened.

"Roll over."

Edward flopped backwards onto the table and rolled onto his belly.

"Beg."

Edward hopped into a squat, holding his arms up like a praying mantis, and barked twice.

"Good boy."

Suddenly Edward snapped back to himself, leaping to his feet. "IS DIS REALLY _NECESSARY?!!?!?_"

Nurse Leslie remained completely deadpan. "Not really. It's just funny."

"What seems to be the trouble, Nurse Leslie?" Slinkman broke in, surreptitiously checking his watch. He figured he still had about twenty minutes before Lumpus started tearing up furniture.

Nurse Leslie sighed slightly, ignoring the fuming Edward, and painstakingly checked his clipboard again. Wheeling himself over to a filing cabinet, the shark bent over and rifled through some of its papers, making noncommittal "Oh" and "Hmm" noises throughout the entire process. Finally shutting the drawer, Nurse Leslie propelled himself back to Edward and Slinkman, then shook his head solemnly. "I'm afraid this is serious," he informed them in a heavy tone.

Edward grabbed the ends of his necktie and started anxiously pulling at them, trembling violently. "A-am I gonna die?"

"You should be so lucky." As though the news was too terrible to impart to the victim himself, Nurse Leslie turned to face the Assistant Scoutmaster, a grim expression on his face. "Mr. Slinkman...this boy is in _love_."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Girl Stuff (And Boy Stuff Too)

For the second time that day, Edward was crouched behind his bed, leaning against the wooden wall of his cabin and breathing haggardly. He'd only narrowly avoided being detained for further examination by virtue of a panicky screech and the subsequent (mostly accidental) destruction of just about everything in the nurse's office, which had been immediately followed by a swift leap through an open window and running all around the camp screaming his head off until he'd launched himself through the windows of his own cabin, hurled Chip and Skip out the door and then locked it. By this point, though, he'd managed to control his shaking and sweating somewhat, and had recovered a lot of his wits.

"Okay, gotta keep this in perspective," he muttered, passing a hand over his forehead. "Leslie said dat I'm in love. Well, hey, he could be wrong!" A slightly hysterical note entered his voice at that last sentence, but he did his best to stomp it flat. It was bad enough that his stomach turned flips whenever he thought about...about...

"Th' _important_ thing is, he didn't say wit' WHO. It might not be wit' _her_ at all! Y-yeah! Heh...heh heh..."

With his mind still jumbled from the initial shock of his meeting with Veronica Webbs, Edward didn't know whether this fact relieved, terrified or..._depressed_ him. So instead he took another deep breath, trying to quell the churnings of his bowels, and stared fixedly at the issue of _Veronica Monthly_ he'd gotten just that morning.

"Aw'right...time fer some _research_."

Even with his shaking hands, it didn't take long to find the article he'd been reading when Lazlo had barged in almost two hours before—a long-winded piece describing the history of the Veronica Doll company, in honor of its tenth anniversary. As the article went, a platypus named Arthur Webbs—Veronica's father—had been fired from his job at a well-known toy company due to the fact that his clothing clashed with all the furniture in his office. A single father and desperate for money, Mr. Webbs had come up with the idea for a line of girls' toys (Edward's shoulders hunched defensively at that part), all revolving around a doll he'd designed based on an imagined teenage version of his daughter, merely an infant at the time. Taking a huge chance, he'd invested the last of his savings in this venture, which had turned out to be an instant success, with Veronica dolls selling like hotcakes and every major toy store across the country carrying his merchandise within the next six months. The article ended with the promise that the company was getting together to "plan something new" for their anniversary, a matter presumably related to the business meeting that Veronica's father had needed daughter-free time to arrange. (Not that Edward knew about that last part, but since the readers do, they might find it interesting.)

There was no doubt about it. The girl was who she'd said she was.

Very calmly, _very_ calmly, Edward shut the magazine and slid it under his bed, then retrieved his own Veronica doll and began cradling her protectively. Yes, he was _utterly_ at ease. After all, there was no reason to get all worked up about this. So _what_ that Veronica Webbs was just across Leakey Lake with her too-Veronicalike face and that worryingly enthusiastic expression?

"_I _like _you."_

Edward started to burn bright red again, but he shook his head vigorously in an effort to return to his normal state of mind. He exhaled. Again, _so what?_ If he ignored her, she'd probably go away.

* * *

"—and _this_ cabin is where you'll be staying for the rest of the week!" Miss Doe was twittering, guiding Veronica to the door of one of the cozy, pastel-pink cabins scattered across Acorn Flats. Miss Mucus grunted along behind, Veronica's extensive luggage piled on her back. "I'm sure these Squirrels won't mind sharing, oh, they're some of the most deLIGHTful in the whole camp!! I'm sure you'll just _love_ it."

"Lay off the sugar, Jane," Miss Mucus muttered. "I thought I _hid_ that stuff..."

If Miss Doe heard her, she made no comment, though Veronica blinked rapidly in momentary confusion. "Oh, oh my, here we are now!" trilled the Denmother, rapping on the door as her voice raised several octaves. "Oh Squ_iiiiiiiiiiii_rrrrrrrrr_eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee_lllls..."

The door swung open promptly, with Patsy, Nina and Gretchen standing behind it. When Gretchen caught sight of Veronica, her fists clenched and her nostrils flared, quiet steam chugging out. Patsy noticed, and tried to divert attention from it by waving her arms frantically. "Y-yes, Miss Doe?"

Rather than wait for any formalities, the deer strode right in, pulling Veronica along with her. Gretchen's tail snapped up territorially. "Oh, oh yes, this will do _fine_," Miss Doe proclaimed, admiring the cabin as Miss Mucus shuffled grumblingly in behind and dumped the lavender suitcases on the floor. The warthog promptly stormed out, huffing about some wrestling matches she needed to watch, but still the unflappable Miss Doe remained unfazed. "Well, girls, have you introduced yourselves yet?"

Nina glanced worriedly at Gretchen, who still seemed about to go for Veronica's throat, but Patsy took care of matters herself. "Hi, Veronica!" she beamed, though the smile wavered a little in loyalty to Gretchen—and the anxiety of what the alligator might try to do once the Denmother left. "You m-might not remember us from before, you know, with everyone coming up to you at once and stuff!! ...But I'm Patsy Smiles. This is Nina Neckerly, and over there—"

Gretchen gave a long, low growl.

Patsy chuckled half-heartedly, her chipper tone deflating. "...That's Gretchen."

"Hi!" Veronica chirped, completely ignorant of the imminent threat to her well-being. Her tail swung pendulously from side to side behind her, the only real movement in the room besides Gretchen's quivering fists and the nervous tick in Patsy and Nina's smiles.

"WELL, I'm glad that you've all gotten acquainted!" Miss Doe suddenly interjected, clapping her hands together with an air of finality. She cocked her head to the side and gave a much-too-wide smile before heading towards the exit. "I have some _work_ to doooooo, so goodbye, ladies!!"

Once the door had shut (rather cheerfully) behind the Denmother, Nina cleared her throat meaningfully, shooting nervous sidelong glances at Patsy and Gretchen. Patsy began tapping her fingers together anxiously, trying to avoid looking at anyone in particular. "Ummmm...so, Veronica, errrr..." She coughed, doing her best to block out the sound of Gretchen gnashing her teeth. "Umm...you know, that BOY you were talking to, um, Edward...? The platypus Bean Scout...?"

Veronica's face lit up, and she clasped her hands together excitedly. "Yes?"

Patsy looked desperately to Nina for help, but the giraffe was busy moving her collection of comic books under her bed and out of the war zone. "Ummm...uh...welllll," Patsy stammered, pulling at her dark blue neckerchief, "well, um, you see, a...a _friend_ of mine happens to LI—_EEEEP!_"

The last ejaculation was due to Gretchen shoving Patsy out of the way, knocking the mongoose into one of the beds. For a moment Veronica's obliviously happy expression wavered, and she backed a step away from the advancing alligator.

"_Listen_, you," Gretchen growled, jabbing her finger into Veronica's shoulder, "do you '_like_' Edward?"

The rosy glow came back, and Veronica let loose a quick, high-pitched giggle before answering simply, "YES."

Nina's head shot up from behind a box of _Slimy Space Warriors_ back issues, which she was trying to conceal behind the curtains. She gasped in shock and confusion, her mind whirling with thoughts of breached feminine protocol. Girls weren't supposed to be so straightforward about who they "LIKED"! Unless it was a celebrity crush—and one where a normal girl had a crush on a celebrity boy, not when a celebrity girl had a crush on a normal boy—they were supposed to try and keep it a secret until their best friends forced the information out of them! (Admittedly, Patsy hadn't required much forcing, but Gretchen had held out for two full weeks before confessing.) This girl was practically committing heresy, not to mention endangering herself by admitting it in front of _Gretchen!_

Oh, the follies of _naïveté_.

Sitting fully upright on the bed, Patsy's muscles tensed nervously in case she had to tackle Gretchen off the new girl. But all Gretchen did so far was bare her clenched teeth, her steely gaze fixed on Veronica's blissfully ignorant face. The alligator seemed to be in some kind of inner turmoil, looking like she _wanted_ to attack Veronica, but wasn't sure whether she could deal with the repercussions or not. (After all, on the very few occasions that there was trouble in the camp, Miss Doe would take the perpetrator and try to instill "good moral conduct" in them by sitting them through endless reruns of _Leave It To Beaver_. Which, to the girls, was less like a lesson in morality and more like the world's most perfect torture.)

After a long, nerve-shattering silence, Gretchen turned sharply on her heel and stalked away, crossing her arms and letting out a snort as she sat down on the floor, her back to Veronica. Veronica's already-blinding cheerfulness brightened the room even more now that she was absolutely certain that nothing bad was about to happen. Not that _anything_ bad ever happened to _her_. Not that she even really knew what "bad" _meant_.

"Nice to meet you all!" she chirped, beaming obliviously around the room before returning her gaze to the still-stunned Patsy, who Veronica clearly accepted as the resident authority. "So, which bed is mine?"

Patsy shook her head to try to rid herself of her deer-in-headlights feeling, and looked around the cabin. She opened her mouth to answer the query—then closed it.

Three beds and four Squirrel Scouts. My oh _my_, did Miss Doe have some AMAZING math skills.

"Um...heh heh," Nina chuckled nervously, rubbing her long neck. "Um. Well...about that, uh, heh heh heh..."

"Don't you have a _sleeping bag?_" Gretchen snapped, glaring backwards at the platypus from the corner of her eye. "Whaddaya _think_ this is, a HOTEL?"

Veronica blinked and furrowed her brow, slightly confused. "It's a Squirrel Scout camp."

Gretchen stood up, turning to face Veronica again with all the rage she had—which was a heck of a lot. And even though Veronica was almost the same height as the alligator, Gretchen seemed to tower over her, the mere presence of her anger filling the room. "Emphasis on _camp_," she spat, crossing her arms. "You can sleep in the cabin if you _have_ to, but you're _not_ taking any of our beds."

Nina and Patsy bit their lips, glancing nervously between Gretchen and Veronica. Of course they thought that Gretchen was being a bit harsh—Veronica was a _guest_, after all, and a FAMOUS one to boot—but they didn't really want to give up their own beds either.

"Ummmm...maybe we can ask Miss Doe for an extra bed?" Patsy put in, forcing false hope into her voice. The Squirrel Scout organization was so popular that most troops were filled up to the maximum number of Scouts that the manual allowed, and the Squirrel specialty camps (of which Acorn Flats was undoubtedly one of the finest) included only enough sleeping room for the aforementioned limit plus the Denmother. That was why Miss Mucus lived in her trailer—according to the manual, she was an "extra", not actually being a Squirrel Scout or Denmother herself, and so couldn't be provided for by the guidelines.

Like so many other important things, Veronica was completely and utterly ignorant of these facts, and so she labored under the impression that Patsy's suggestion was a perfectly sound one. "Thanks!" She grinned at the mongoose, whose strained smile buckled some more under Veronica's somewhat annoying cheerfulness. "But we can do that later, right?"

Nina cocked her head curiously, sitting down on the edge of her bed as though to guard it from all possibility of repossession. "I guess so..." She shrugged, blinking. "Why?"

Surprisingly, Veronica's creamy fur prickled with a pink blush, and her shoulders hunched up protectively. Gretchen made a large display of groaning irritably, but even she seemed at least a little curious—her nostrils were flared less than before.

Veronica's tail swished nervously behind her, and the platypus tapped her fingers together in a steady but increasingly rapid beat. It was a while before she spoke, seemingly having to build up the courage to do so, and by then all eyes in the room were on her.

"Wh-what do you guys know," Veronica uttered quietly, embarrassedly, but with a tiny girlish grin still lingering on her face, "about a first kiss?"


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Slinkman's line about "not being in love" later on in this chapter is almost a direct quote from Pinky Lillix, who proofread the first two chapters of this story. Actually, the fact that I quoted her AND that she ended up as the proofreader is almost a complete coincidence...how oddly the world works._

Chapter 4: Emotional Innocence Is Overrated

There was complete silence in the cabin as the full weight of the shock settled down on its inhabitants. Patsy's jaw worked soundlessly as she stared wide-eyed at Veronica, unable to comprehend the _audacity_ of the newcomer even though the platypus clearly didn't understand _anything_ about the structure of female society. You had to go on a _date_ before you kissed! And to go on a date you had to confess your love, and to confess your love you had to have pined and dropped hints and giggled and given romantic presents and EVERYTHING _and Veronica was singlehandedly destroying everything that girls stood for!_

...Well, maybe they were blowing this out of proportion and she only wanted to _know_ about a first kiss, not actually _kiss_ yet, but...

The tranquility was broken momentarily by Gretchen as she stood up, inhaling deeply with her eyes closed. Then, quite calmly, she walked right over to the door, opened it, stepped out, and shut the door behind her, leaving the silence completely as it was.

Moments later, there drifted through the window the unmistakable sound of falling trees.

All of a sudden, Nina giggled girlishly, a blush lighting up her own cheeks as she apparently _completely _forgot about both the evidence of Gretchen's outrage and the feminine blasphemy that Veronica seemed to be proposing. "Oh my," the giraffe choked out at length, her shoulders jittering as she tried desperately to remain coherent. "That's a...a bi-b-big _topic_ you've got there...I..._heeeeeee hee HEEEEE!!!_"

Despite the fact that Gretchen was one of her best friends, and as such she should have been informing Veronica that there was no way in Kidney (re: heck) that she would help someone else kiss the boy her best friend liked, the lure of female superstition was too powerful and Patsy succumbed with a soft sigh. "If only I could get _my_ first kiss..." she mumbled whimsically, a faraway look in her eyes as she thought dreamily of Lazlo. It was one of her favorite daydreams, where he was standing shirtless on the deck of a pirate ship with his hands on his hips and his hair blowing in the wind. "I've been waiting _ages_ for him to notice me..."

Veronica's head snapped up, and she seemed almost panicked. "N-not Edward?!!?"

This brought Patsy crashing back to reality, and she recoiled in disgust. "EW! No _way!_" Then, noticing Veronica's expression, she quickly amended, "N-not that there's anything WRONG with him"—the next part she muttered under her breath—"except that he _torments_ my poor lovely Lazlo, oh my precious tortured boy"—and then raised her voice again—"b-but I like..._someone else_."

All three girls lapsed back into silence, each enrapturedly envisioning how they wanted their first kisses to be. At length they began to shake their heads dizzily, goofy but excited grins plastered on their faces.

Then Nina eased off of her bed and opened the drawer on her nightstand, pulling out a small red notebook. Brushing some dust off its cover, she stepped lightly over to the middle of the floor, where she kneeled down, smoothing her skirt as she did so. Patsy and Veronica immediately sat down in front of her, waiting eagerly for the distribution (or, in Patsy's case, _re_distribution) of the romantic knowledge that Nina had been carefully collecting over the course of a few years from novels, movies, adults, and even some other Squirrels.

"Okay, girls," Nina squeaked excitedly, eyes shining behind her glasses as she flipped open the battered but well-preserved book, skimming through the pages. "This is what we know about the _first kiss_..."

* * *

All the while that Slinkman stood in line at the Prickly Pines grocery store, a small box of chocolate clutched in his hands, his stomach tingled with the cold grip of dread. Although Nurse Leslie had assured him that Edward's condition wasn't fatal—outbreaks of Love had killed many unfortunates in the days of its peak, before the proper vaccine had been created—Slinkman was still obligated to tell the Scoutmaster about it. It said so in his job description. Which was in his contract. Which he knew by heart, as he read it every night before he went to bed. And still he hadn't found any mention of _any_ eventual pay increases, not even in the section that Scoutmaster Lumpus had somehow managed to write in perfect Swahili.

"Nnnnneeeeeexxxxxttttt, pppppppppllllllllleeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaasssssssseeeeeee," droned a bored-looking sloth working the register. Slinkman groaned, shuffling forward half an inch with the rest of the line. Of _course_, on the day that Lumpus had his monthly mental breakdown and demanded chocolate confectioneries "or else", all but one of the cash registers in the store _happened_ to be out of order, the teller just _happened_ to be the slowest mammal on land, and Slinkman just _happened_ to be lined up behind a parade of black rats who were getting food for a FAMILY REUNION.

He felt sorry for whoever was going to have to cook all that cheesecake.

...Well, _almost_ as sorry as he felt for himself when he thought about how he was soon going to show up late with the chocolate, have to dodge blunt objects thrown by the Scoutmaster, force him to calm down, _then_ tell him that a camper was in LOVE. And calm him down again. And then manually repair everything Lumpus would have destroyed throughout his blind rage and subsequent blind panic.

Unfortunately, Slinkman knew it wouldn't even be as simple as _that_; there'd still be Edward to deal with. Poor boy...Love at that age was always confusing, often painful, and would most likely involve large amounts of therapy if not dealt with properly. Occasionally the clergy would have to be called in, which was never a pretty sight either, and would involve being stuffed in a small room with a lightbulb shining in your eyes and being ordered to "confess your sins", whereupon the unfortunate would be liberally doused with a bucket of water and have it left at that.

Slinkman shivered at the memory.

Victims of Love had to be cured differently than those of Love _Sickness_, which had ravaged the camp somewhat recently, as the distinct strain of Love itself was more of a psychological disease than anything else. (Thankfully it wasn't contagious, or else Nurse Leslie would've had to order a total camp lockdown in order to prevent the hideous condition from spreading.) Sometimes Love could be cured merely through the passage of time, as its effects slowly faded away; other times it could linger forever, eating ravenously at the sanity of the afflicted to the point where they had to be taken care of in special homes. Other times, if a partner also burdened with Love could be found, the condition could mutate into a softer, more harmless state, though still with odd gooshy sensations about the throat and stomach. Slinkman hoped that the latter would be Edward's fate. He chuckled inwardly, remembering the fiasco at Acorn Flats. Oh, he was sure that Edward and that Webbs girl would be just—

Slinkman suddenly reeled forwards as he was smacked in the back of the head by a packet of frozen peas a toddler had thrown at him. He juggled his chocolate box furiously, trying to keep from dropping it, and when his grip was finally reestablished he let out a sigh of relief.

But then he stopped.

Why had he assumed that Edward was in Love with the Webbs girl?

Sure, Edward had been blushing and stuttering while talking with her, and had actually fainted upon their first meeting, but Slinkman recalled something about a doll...some doll that the girl's father's company made, which she'd said looked kind of like her. Edward's trauma could've had to do with that resemblance—maybe he'd had a scarring experience involving that doll in the past or something.

Then, as Edward himself had realized at his cabin nearly half an hour before Slinkman had started on this train of thought, the slug recalled that Nurse Leslie had never mentioned who exactly Edward was in Love _with_. Slimy sweat oozed out of Slinkman's pores as he mechanically shuffled forwards in line, the chocolate box covered with trembling hands. It was probably one of the other Squirrel Scouts that the boy liked...although the Beans and Squirrels rarely mixed, Edward had been coming to Camp Kidney for long enough that he'd probably know almost all of the Acorn Flats Scouts by sight. H-he could have his pick of any of them, probably!! _Why couldn't "probably" be a "positively"?!?_

"...Are you all right, sir?" interrupted a voice from behind the slug, and he jumped nearly ten feet into the air. Whirling around, he spotted a tall female goose looking only _slightly_ concerned.

"O-oh yes, fine, fine!" Slinkman stammered, his voice high and squeaky from his shock and anxiety. "I'm p-p-perfectly all right, thank you very much!!!! Aheh...aheheheh..."

He turned back around and let out a deep breath, wiping his eye stalks with the back of his hand. Though he could practically feel the goose looking strangely at him from behind, he was too wrapped up in the terrifying thought he now had to face:

There _was_ a possibility that Edward was in Love with a _Bean Scout_.

The prospect itself wasn't the direct cause of Slinkman's panic attack—he was extremely tolerant and accepting of things, and would generally be the absolute last person to treat anyone differently because of such an inconsequential matter. But Edward himself might be a different matter...as well as Scoutmaster Lumpus. Lumpus was notorious for his phobia of anything "new" or "different", especially if it might get him in trouble, and the Assistant Scoutmaster had no clear way of knowing how the moose would react to this new knowledge.

If it was true. It _could_ be just a theory.

Slinkman remembered the time Edward had thought he'd become a mother and groaned.

Well, it could _still_ be just a theory. He fervently hoped so for everyone's sake. Especially his own, because who _knew_ what might happen if anything came of this.

A familiar feeling of smoldering firewood rumbled up in Slinkman's intestines, and he let out a long, low sigh. Poor Edward—_whichever_ way his fortunes led. The slug knew exactly how it felt to be in Love, and had experienced it multiple times over the course of his life so far. And all he could really say was that _not_ being in Love was one of the greatest feelings in the world.

"Heya, bub, you're _up!_" snapped a Brooklyn-accented rat standing in front of Slinkman, who straightened immediately in shock.

"No, sir! I wasn't having any bad thoughts, sir! R-r-_really_, sir!!" Slinkman gibbered incoherently before remembering where he was. He gave the rat a sheepish grin, trying to laugh it off as best he could. "Heh...um, eh, thanks..."

Coughing and straightening his neckerchief to try and avoid suspicion from the other shoppers, Slinkman stepped up to the register and handed his chocolate box to the sales clerk. The sloth looked it over slowly, nodding his head and raising his eyebrow at the slug. (Combined, these actions took almost a full minute.)

"Booooolllllliiiiiivvvviiiiiaaaaannn gggooooouuuurrrmmmmeeeeeet chhhhhhhooooooccccooolllllaaaaaattttttteeeessssss, Iiiiii sssssseeeeeeeeeee," drawled the sloth as he leisurely picked up the price scanner and inched it towards the box. "Ffffooorrrrr aaaaaannnnnnyyyyyooooonnnneeeee _sssssppppppeeeeeecccccciiiaaaaalll?_"

Slinkman's face heated up reflexively at the question, but he willed himself to ignore it. Instead, he leaned closer to the sloth and told him in a very low, serious voice:

"Sir, these chocolates might just save my life."

* * *

It was just about dinnertime when Nina finished reading aloud from her _Scrapbook of Love_™, as it seemed that Patsy and Veronica had questions for every point of mystique that cropped up. Gretchen still hadn't returned, and although the crashing of mistreated vegetation had stopped a while before, other vaguely violent noises sometimes reverberated across the campground. But the three Squirrels being focused on right now were in too intense a romantic fervor to notice.

"That's all true, then?" Veronica squeaked excitedly, bouncing up and down on her knees. "The bells ringing? And the magical aura? And that thing about the rock?"

"The Blushing Rock," Nina clarified, reddening herself as she let out another round of high-pitched giggles. She reopened the book, skipping to a page featuring a hasty, poorly-drawn map of Acorn Flats and the surrounding area. Her finger rested lightly on a small black dot situated somewhere in the woods behind the tennis courts. "If you confess your love to someone there, and you both kiss, you'll be _together forever!_"

"And it's even _more_ powerful if it's the first kiss for both of you!" Patsy piped up, wringing her fists—but then a look of confusion crossed her face. "...Or is it when it's your first kiss _together?_"

Nina shrugged, rubbing her long neck. "I'm not sure...but either way, a first kiss is pretty heavy-duty on its own. And you gotta be careful who gets yours, 'cus no matter whether you love 'em or not, they'll be a part of your soul for _all eternity_."

The epidemic of goofy grins spread again, and the cabin was all sighs for a while longer. It wasn't until Veronica stood cautiously up and tiptoed towards the door that Patsy snapped out of it.

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!?" she demanded shrilly.

Veronica jumped, surprised at the sudden outburst. "To visit that Bean Scout camp across the lake," she replied innocently, interlacing her fingers. "That's where _he_ is, right?"

This _so_ wasn't good!! "Um, YES, yes it _is!!_" Patsy acknowledged spastically, waving her arms around and looking positively insane. "But, um, you can't go there! Not right now!! 'Cus it's, um, DINNER! Y-y-y-y-yeah, dinner's pretty soon, and we can't miss it!!!!"

Nina had also been shocked back into reality, yelping in terror and accidentally flinging her notebook against the wall. _They'd been helping the enemy! Betraying Gretchen by telling the platypus girl __**everything!!**_ "AND THEN IT'LL BE TOO LATE AFTER DINNER!!" Nina shrieked, sweating furiously. "I-I-I-I-IT'S MOVIE NIGHT, AND THEY'RE PLAYING _WEST SIDE STORY_!! YEAH! THEN IT'S CURFEW AND WE HAVE TO GO TO BED!!"

Although slight disappointment trembled momentarily on Veronica's face, the smile returned quickly. She didn't even seem to notice anything strange about her cabinmates' behavior. Patsy immediately started feeling pangs of guilt. Ohhhh, the stupid, gullible girl! Why'd she have to fall for _Edward_, of all people?

...Well, at least it wasn't _Lazlo_...

Nina quickly changed the topic to an article she'd read about an upcoming Squirrelando Bloom movie, and the trio chatted amiably on that topic until the announcement came over the loudspeakers for dinner. Though they saw Gretchen at the Food Terrace both for the meal _and_ the movie presented immediately afterwards, the alligator refused to sit anywhere near Veronica, whom it was _impossible_ for Patsy and Nina to ditch. Not only was Veronica attached to their every move like a parasite, none of the other Squirrels would dare to even _speak_ to her, fearing Gretchen's wrath if they showed any sort of friendliness towards the girl. When finally the film ended and everyone returned to their cabins for the night, Gretchen had only stopped in to grab a blanket off of her bed before she went back outside, when they could hear a scraping noise as Gretchen presumably removed a ladder that had been hidden under the porch and climbed up onto the roof.

And, with Veronica sleeping snugly in Gretchen's vacated bed and most likely dreaming about the object of Gretchen's secret adoration, all Patsy and Nina could really be thankful for was that this could _only_ last a week.

* * *

Edward woke up the next morning thoroughly refreshed, invigorated and prepared to deal with the world on its own terms. This was _not_ a drastic change; after all, he'd seen the light. There _was_ no Veronica Webbs. The previous day had _not_ happened at _all_. It had all been a dream. A sadistic, neurotic dream that had probably been the result of actually eating at the Mess Hall on "Ketchup And Rice Day".

Of _course_. It was all so SIMPLE!

"Good morning, Chip!" he trilled happily, leaning over Chip's bunk and patting him tenderly on the head. Shimmying up the metal framework of the stacked beds (and not even noticing that his hands were turning green from the grime), he greeted Skip the same way. "Good _morning_, Skip. I hope you two slept well!"

"G'morning, Mommy..." mumbled the Dungs in chorus, still mostly asleep.

"I'm just gonna get dressed and go to th' Mess Hall," Edward assured them in his newly-acquired bubbly tone, stripping off his white tank top and throwing on his Bean Scout uniform with a relish he'd never displayed before. Scooping his Veronica doll up from beneath his bed, he gave it a quick cuddle, not caring whether Skip or Chip saw him. (They didn't, but that's besides the point.) "G'bye, fellasssss!!! Have a beeeeYOOtiful day!"

After the cabin door shut behind the platypus, Chip sat up groggily and leaned over to look up at his brother. "Was _that_ EDWARD?"

Skip gasped thickly, slapping both hands to his face. "OH-EM-GEE! _EDWARD'S OUR MOMMY?!!?!?!??!_"

Edward was humming as he skipped out of the cabin, a blissful grin stretched across his face. "Hiya, Dave, Pingpong!!" he called out, waving spastically at both loons as he passed them. They stared at him as though he'd just grown another head, which caused them to accidentally run into the flagpole. "Hellooooooooo, Samson! How's my favorite buddy today?" Samson emitted a squeaky "Merp!" and dove for cover behind the latrines. "GOOD _morning_, random background bear whose name I vaguely remember!"

Well, nobody really noticed what the background bear was doing, but he was probably just as freaked out as everybody else.

As soon as Edward entered the Mess Hall with his frighteningly uncharacteristic good cheer, every camper inside scooted towards the opposite wall. Chef McMeusli might have done the same, but he'd been temporarily blinded by an accident involving a lot of soybeans and a horribly malfunctioning blender. Which is mostly unrelated, but might make for a funny anecdote someday.

However, Edward was oblivious to all the goings-on around him, so utterly relieved was he by his solution to the Veronica problem. It was all a dream. She didn't _really_ exist, but if she did, she _certainly_ wasn't at Acorn Flats!

Life had never seemed so beautiful.

A violent _crash_ greeted Edward as he exited the Mess Hall and passed the Scoutmaster's cabin, and the platypus only narrowly missed being struck by shards of glass and Slinkman's limp body as the latter hurtled through one of the top-floor windows. "GOOOOOOOOOOOD _morning_, sir!" Edward chirruped carelessly, sidestepping the Assistant Scoutmaster as he continued on his happy jaunt.

Slinkman groaned, pushing himself up onto his elbows. Even though he'd waited until that morning to inform Lumpus about Edward's "condition"—just the fact that he was in Love, not Slinkman's private suspicions about the matter—the moose _still_ hadn't reacted well. He wasn't even sure if Lumpus had even _believed_ him or was just in denial of the whole situation.

At the thought of the word "denial", the slug's earlier fears bubbled their way back to the surface, and he resolved to have a talk with Edward before it was too late.

Except...he couldn't seem to spot the poor Scout anywhere.

"Hello, cabins!" trilled Edward, walking past the decrepit old shacks and in the direction of the forest. "Hello, trees! Hello, rocks! Hello, butterflies!"

He let out a long, low sigh of contentment, a grin lifting at the edges of his bill as he greeted all the nature around him. "I FEEL SO FREAKIN' _ALIVE!_ GOOD MORNING, WORLD!!!!!! GOOD MORNING, SKY AN' CLOUDS AN' OZONE LAYER! _GOOD MORNING, VERONICA!_"

...A pause.

A terrible pause, with Edward's heart leaping into his throat and nearly choking him to death.

He had _not_ just said that.

That had _not_ been a glimpse of a frighteningly familiar face out of the corner of his eye.

Yup, if he just walked _calmly_ back to camp _right now_, everything would be all—

"Good morning, Edward!"

Veronica giggled embarrassedly as she stepped out from behind a tree, twisting her hands together and sidling into his line of view. There was no going back now. _She was there_.

Edward's knees started banging together again, and his cap tumbled straight off his head.

"Um, what were their names...? Well, the girls in my cabin weren't awake when I got up—they were waiting for the bugle call, I guess—gosh, we don't have bugle calls in my hometown, but then again I've never been _camping_ with Squirrel Scouts before, and I've just never had anything to do with bugles...anyways, I didn't know if we were allowed to come here this early, so I had to wait until I could ask them about it," Veronica chattered, digging her purple sneakers into the dirt and shooting him strange-looking smiles. "And then they wouldn't answer my questions, just kept on saying stuff like 'oh, we need to have breakfast' and 'wait until Denmother Doe's told us the activities', and stuff like that, but I figured out that all I really needed to do was ask the Denmother if it was okay, and she said that if I wanted to look around...Camp Didkey, I think?...that I could, so..."

She trailed off, cheeks glowing bright pink. Edward just stared at her blankly, creamy fur matted down with a sudden onslaught of sweat. Why was he sweating? Why did his face feel so hot, his insides so jumbled, his lungs so tingly?

"So here I am!" the girl finished, cocking her head and grinning even more brightly. "Aren't you glad to see me?"

No response. Edward's vocal cords were tied in a knot.

Veronica seemed to take that as a "yes", and she rose up onto her tiptoes in excitement. "Um, you know, Edward, I was wondering...uh, if you can come to Acorn Flats with me for a while, and, well, there's this really nice place I've heard of, it's like a rock, except it's a SPECIAL rock, and I'd really like for you to come with me..."

All through this conversation, the girl had been inching steadily closer to Edward, and now their bills were a mere inch apart. Edward's shoulders tensed anxiously, his own face starting to turn red while Veronica stared at him expectantly.

"I—" the boy stammered, his eyes locked with hers, "I—I—I—I—"

Was _this_ what love felt like? Was he _really_—

"WHADDAYOU THINK YOU'RE _DOING?!?!?_"

Edward instinctively jumped back from Veronica, whirling around just in time to see Gretchen charging like a bull off of the Leakey Lake sandbar, where one could tell by her glistening green skin and dripping curls that she had just swam all the way from Acorn Flats.

But Edward wasn't really interested in that. He was more interested in the fact that she was charging straight at _him_.

"EDWARD, YOU STUPID LITTLE—! _I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU, I __**HATE**__ YOU!!!!_"

Letting out a _very_ unmanly shriek, Edward shoved Veronica to the side and started sprinting away as fast as he could, Gretchen hot on his heels and catching up with the speed of a locomotive. Still screaming, Edward pressed on, forcing his legs to keep pumping, and tried to run in indistinct loops to try and confuse his pursuer.

Veronica just stood where she was and blinked bewilderedly.

"_GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!_" Edward was rapidly approaching the cluster of cabins, and in his utter panic tried his best to angle towards the door of his own. But due to his flawed judgment and the sheer trauma he was going through, the one he actually picked was Jelly Cabin. And its three inhabitants were just walking out.

"Oh, hey Edwa—" Lazlo began cheerfully before he was bowled over by the platypus, both of them tumbling a good three or four feet towards the door of the cabin before they simply sprawled into an untidy mess on the ground. There was a heartbeat's pause, then Edward's tail shot up, quickly followed by the rest of him, and the platypus shoved himself off of Lazlo and in one fluid movement bolted in the opposite direction.

"AAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!! _**I'VE BEEN CONTAMINATED!!!!!!**_"

Once safely within the confines of his own cabin, Edward didn't notice much of anything. Not the incessant pounding on his door as Gretchen demanded he come out, not the sausagelike bodies of his two best friends still sleeping in their bunks, not even his own rapidly rising heart rate or the flaming red blood pulsing through every artery in his face. All his faculties were instead trying their hardest to keep him from letting out a huge, ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream.

_WHY, OF ALL PEOPLE, DID __**HE**__ HAVE TO BE MY FIRST KISS?!!?_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Don't Break My Heart—It's A Rental

"_Whoa_." Raj gave a short whistle as he watched Gretchen trying to break down the Pinto Cabin door. "Does her anger-management counselor know about dis?"

Clam stood in the doorway to Jelly Cabin, Lazlo's head still lying by the pygmy rhino's feet. "Lazlo okay?" Clam inquired politely.

Lazlo shook his head dazedly, trying to sit up as best he could. "Um...I _think_ so, Clam..." he replied slowly, seeming a bit stunned. "Uh...what...what just happened?"

Clam clapped both hands to the sides of his face, though his expression was as stoic as always. "AMNESIA! Insert 'gasp'."

"_EDWAAAAAAAAAAAARD!!!!_" Gretchen continued to hammer on the wood unabated, splintering the door in places. "OH, YOU STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPIDSTUPID_STUPID_ **PLATYPUS!!!!**"

"Nooo...it's not amnesia, Clam," Lazlo assured his friend, grabbing at Raj's sleeve in an attempt to pull himself up. Finally, with the elephant's help, he was able to get shakily to his feet. "Um, I don't think so...I-I guess I'm just a little winded, is all..."

Neither Raj nor Clam noticed as Lazlo brought an orange hand up to his face and confusedly traced a small circle around his mouth. But Slinkman, who'd witnessed the entire sequence of events from his vantage point near the Mess Hall, _did_.

"Oh dear," he mumbled, breaking out into fresh sweat as he retreated behind the cafeteria building. His hunch must have been right...if Edward was so in Love that he'd tackled Lazlo and—!

That poor, _poor_ boy.

Heaving a big, stuttering sigh, Slinkman wiped his moist palms on his pants and resolutely straightened his cap. Even lacking a spine, his back was straight as he marched out from behind the building. He would talk to Edward _now_, inform the boy of the danger he might possibly be in if Scoutmaster Lumpus ever saw any of those "demonstrations", and give him a little emotional counseling if it looked like he needed some.

"**EDWARD, IF YOU DON'T COME OUT OF THAT STUPID CABIN, I'M GOING TO BITE YOUR DUMB **_**LEGS**_** OFF!!!!**"

Slinkman quickly ducked back behind the Mess Hall. _Well, maybe not right this minute._

* * *

The process of calming down is an extremely hard one, especially if you've just accidentally had your first kiss with your least favorite person on the planet—and a same-sex kiss at that—and are now pressed up against a rotted old wooden door which has a furious alligator pounding on the other side. But somehow Edward retained the ability of rational thought.

"CHIP! SKIP!" he called out desperately, struggling to keep the cabin door shut and in one piece. "GUYS! _PALS!_ **I NEED YOUR HELP!!**"

"'At's nice, Edwaaaaard..." one of the Dungs mumbled in his sleep.

Internally, Edward swore. _Stupid, good-fer-nuttin'..._ He began to feel his panic level rise again, but forced himself to squash it down. _Okay, okay, you can do dis, Edward. Just gotta think, think, think..._

_NO!! NOT ABOUT VERONICA!! NOT __**THAT**__ VERONICA, AT LE—_

_NOT ABOUT __**LAZLO**__ EITHER!!!!!! STUPID DANG MONKEY, STEALIN' MY FREAKIN' FIRST—_

Another possibly obscene shout from Gretchen snapped the platypus back to the present, and he tried to get back on track. _Aw'right, aw'right, what ta' do, what ta' doooo..._

Well, of course the first thing to do was shove his bedside table in front of the door. Then his suitcase, which, as always, lay packed and ready on the floor just in case of emergency. Then, somehow, through a feat of unnatural strength, the platypus managed to add not only his full-sized cabinet to the barricade, but his roommates' bunks, with the Dungs barely even noticing a thing.

But that could only _really_ hold Gretchen off for a few extra seconds.

_C'mon Ed-man, don't panic don't panic __**I SAID DON'T PANIC**__—_

At last his desperately roving eyes caught sight of the floorboard he'd been trying to pry up the day before, right when Slinkman had come in to send him to the Nurse. He pounced on it, fingers scrabbling at all the rusty old nails and, fear pumping adrenaline through his veins, he managed to pry up the board and one near it to create a big enough hole for him to squeeze through. Edward glanced nervously at the door, the creaky hinges of which were already popping out of the wall, and quickly stuck his leg into the hole. Then, as if thinking twice, he darted back towards his bed, grabbed his Veronica doll and stuffed it into his hat before wriggling feet-first into the gap in his floor.

It was extremely cramped in the space between the wooden floor and the ground, but somehow Edward managed to inch his way towards the back of the cabin, away from the gnashing teeth and thumping fists of Gretchen. And, once he staggered to his feet on the outside, away from Camp Kidney.

He wasn't quite sure if he was going to actually run away or not. Even though he'd always fantasized about it...well, so what that his fantasies had included a dramatic sequence where he jumped onto a rope ladder dangling from a blimp, with all the campers below begging him not to leave? As long as he _left_, that was all that really mattered. Especially now that staying would mean dealing with this "Love" business, and that thing with Lazlo THAT HAD NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENED, and—

Wait. _All his Veronica stuff was still under his bed—_

A particularly loud _CRASH_ erupted from the other end of the cabin, and it didn't take too much imagination to figure out that Gretchen had just broken down the door. With a terrified yelp, Edward dove for cover behind the trees, trying his hardest to keep out of view from the cabin. If he ran too far, she'd see him through the window—he figured it was safer to stay nearby for the moment. _And he could still be close to his secret stash._

"ALL RIGHT, EDWARD, _WHERE ARE YOU?!!?!?_" he could hear Gretchen bellow, and all his fur stood straight up. "I'M GONNA **KILL** YOU!!!"

As terrified as he was, Edward's mind still had room to reel with incomprehension. _What d'hey is her PROBLEM? Why does she suddenly wanna kill me?!?! ...I mean, DIS time?_

Skip's voice floated easily through the mesh windows of the cabin, his words garbled, as he still wasn't quite awake. "Heeeey, Chiiiip...'s someone gonna kill Edw'rd?"

"_**I**_** AM!!!**" was Gretchen's response. "WHERE _IS_ HE, YOU STUPID **BUGS?!?**"

Apparently the Dungs were too stupid to feel threatened, as they ignored her and went on with their own conversation. "I think so, Skip," Chip drawled tiredly. "I dun' think Edward would like that, though."

"OF COURSE HE WON'T! _THAT'S WHY I'M GONNA KILL HIM!!!!_"

There was a metal scraping sound, accompanied by small "WHoOaA!"s from Chip and Skip, and finally a shuddering _CRASH!!!_ that rocked the cabin—Edward supposed that she'd hurled their bunk bed, Dungs and all, into a wall.

"What makes y'think Edward wouldn't like it, Chip?" Skip went on unconcernedly.

"IT'S **DEATH**, YOU MORON!" Gretchen shouted, her voice becoming slightly hoarse by this point. "_NOBODY LIKES TO DIE!!_"

"...Actu'lly..." responded Chip slowly, continuing to disregard Gretchen's input, "I dunno why he wouldn't like it. Is it fun?"

There was a crash, which sounded like Edward's bedside table being pushed over. Gretchen seemed to have decided that talking to Chip and Skip was a complete waste of time, and had instead devoted herself solely to seeking out her prey.

"I dunno. Maybe it _IS_ fun, an' that's why that iguana's gonna kill him!"

"Heeeeeeey...YEAH! Dead us too! _I wanna be deaded!!_"

Edward must have psychically known it was coming, as his lungs and throat constricted with a painful gasp even before he heard the chafing of metal on wood. And then there it was—another scraping noise as Gretchen lifted up Edward's own bed.

And exposed his Veronica merchandise for all the world to gawk at.

...A deathly silence ensued, broken only by the unrelated cheers of the unknowingly-suicidal Dungs. Not daring to peek out from behind his leafy sanctuary, Edward couldn't even begin to imagine what Gretchen's face could have looked like at that moment.

Actually, he'd expected her to laugh derisively before telling the entire camp, plus the Squirrels, about his passion for "girl toys". But still the silence persisted.

"_**THAT STUPID GIRL!**_" Gretchen suddenly screamed, followed by another CRASH! as, Edward figured, she simply dropped his bed. Then a series of heavy footsteps, growing progressively softer as they retreated further from his hiding spot.

But Gretchen's last remark puzzled Edward. "Stupid girl"? Did she...did she mean _him?_ Calling him a girl 'cus of the fact that he obsessively collected dolls and their related products?

Or, he suddenly realized, did she mean Veronica? Veronica _Webbs_, that was...But what reason would Gretchen have to dislike _her?_ And why _had_ Gretchen randomly decided that she needed to kill him that day?

Edward groaned and rubbed his forehead. Why did girls have to be so _weird?_

"Oh, hi again!"

Stiffening, and opening his eyes _verrrrrrrrry_ slowly, he could already feel himself going weak in the legs. AGAIN. As if once in a day wasn't enough, there again was _Veronica_, still wearing that unfathomably cheerful smile.

Why did that smile make him feel like calling the world a wonderful place and _meaning_ it?

"I wonder what she's so mad about," Veronica ventured, glancing concernedly at something over Edward's shoulder. He turned around himself to avoid having to look at her, and to ease the knotted and squidgy sensation in his stomach. Sure enough, as he watched, Gretchen was stomping through the middle of the camp, snarling at Lazlo when he tried to wave at her. Then she punched the flagpole, which promptly fell over and smashed some random cabin. He thought it was one of the ones that background campers lived in.

_Now __**why**__ couldn't it have hit dat darn __**monkey?**_

"I can't believe she missed dat hole in th' floor," was what he muttered aloud, mostly to himself. Sure, Gretchen's vision wasn't the absolute best, but a gap in the floor—as well as the accompanying floorboards and their nails lying off to the side—was an eye-grabber for sure.

"What did you say, Edward?" Veronica cut in, and her tail brushed his ever-so-slightly. Edward jumped in shock, face reddening, and juggled the hat he'd been clutching in an attempt to avoid dropping it. But that meant that the plastic feet of his beloved doll were now poking out, and her namesake soon spotted them. "What's that?"

"NOTHING!" Edward blurted out panickedly, recoiling sharply from her and slapping the hat-encased doll to his chest. "ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! WHY DO YOU ASK?!?"

He wasn't absolutely sure, but he thought that that might have been the first coherent sentence he'd ever spoken in that girl's presence. And for some reason he wanted to smack himself for it.

Veronica's expression changed to one of confusion and slight hurt as she stared straight into Edward's eyes. _Oh, dangit, don't do dat puppy-dog-eyes t'ing, I can't _STAND_ it, oh god, stop LOOKIN' at me like dat..._

"If it's nothing, then how come you're hiding it?..."

Shoulders hunched, Edward's arm began to move jerkily, almost of its own accord. He couldn't even remember thinking it, but soon he was holding his cap out to Veronica, who took it curiously. Cupping her palm around the closed end of the hat, she delicately grasped the doll's exposed ankles and lifted it up to her face.

If there had been any doubt before, seeing the two side by side erased all of it; the doll's face was a perfect match to Veronica's, with the same curls in the radiant red hair and the identical upward slope of her bill. But whereas the doll's body was tall and curved, the girl's was short and straight—though thin enough that it hinted at a more similar shape in the future.

"A Veronica doll?" the girl squeaked excitedly, turning the doll over and looking at it from every angle as if she thought it might change into something else at any moment. "You really _have_ one? I thought you'd just seen it in an ad or something..._wow!_ That's so CUTE!!"

Edward gulped embarrassedly, waves of color rushing back into his face. He honestly tried to emit an angry denial, that he was just keeping the doll for a friend...but Veronica just looked so absolutely thrilled, just smiling so radiantly, that he couldn't say it.

Why _couldn't_ he say it? Dangit, he was EDWARD, surly, rude and practically ex_uuuuuuu_ding manliness! He couldn't allow this girl to make him feel _meek_ and _tongue-tied!_

Forcibly gathering his courage together, Edward puffed his chest out and clenched both fists. He was going to deny everything, tell her that he would never be caught _dead_ owning any Veronica Doll products, that she was going to leave him alone for the rest of his life—

"I've got almost every collectible that's ever been released, includin' da limited edition (recalled in most retail outlets) 'Veronica Big Bucks Vegas Casino™' set!"

As soon as it came out, he clapped a hand to his forehead. This wasn't going well at _all_, was it?

But a look at Veronica's face told otherwise. She gasped, her grip on the doll tightening marginally. "You _do?_" she squeaked, brighter splotches of pink appearing on her cheeks. "I didn't think _anyone_ had that! Daddy said they only shipped out a couple dozen boxes before the PTA started sending bricks through the windows!"

Edward chuckled weakly, rubbing his arm in nervous circles. The way she laughed...no matter how he tried to steel himself from the odd sensations the sound was inducing in him, they always crept in, overwhelming his mind.

She wasn't a _bad_ character, really. She talked a bit much, and could be _way_ too cheerful at times, but overall she was pretty okay. Even the fact that she looked just like his doll. He'd known her face for so many years...

Even though he'd only met the girl herself the previous day, it was like they'd spent a lifetime together, and Edward wasn't entirely sure what it all meant.

"Oh—oh my, _there_ you are!!"

Perfectly on cue, Denmother Doe appeared through the trees to their left, a few twigs stuck in her curly blonde hair but her cheery smile still blinking on and off like a bad lightbulb. Edward, panicking, ripped his Veronica doll away from her look-alike and hid it behind his back. The girl Veronica seemed slightly disappointed, but she had no time to express this as Miss Doe characteristically commandeered the conversation.

"Oh, Veronica, dear, I _found_ you!" she was chirping, sounding as though she'd just been entertaining herself with a few bottles of helium. "Patsy and Nina were so _worried_, they were asking everybody where you'd gone and where Gretchen was, and if you were at this _camp_, and—you know, when I said you could come down to the Bean Scout camp, sweetie, I meant that you should go down with some _friends_, one is a TERRIBLY lonely number for a yacht, and—ohoho—I don't even know how you were able to _steer_ it—but oh yes, of course, your father's a VERY rich man, you've probably been on one before, silly me—and oh my, you're missing our new activity, we wanted you to join in with our 'Turning Chainsaws Into Delightful Flower Arrangements' project! _It's for a merit badge!_"

Listening to this woman was like hearing Groucho Marx on fast-forward, though without the same sense of comedic satisfaction.

"Um, D-D-Denmother Doe," Veronica protested once she could get a word in edgewise, glancing frantically between the deer and Edward, "um, um, I was, um, I need to talk to—"

Miss Doe gasped, apparently seeing Edward for the first time. He gave a wide, false smile, which (to all eyes but Jane's) read "Doll? Of course I'm not hiding any doll behind my back. Are you sure you don't need to visit an optometrist?"

"Ohhhh, you're _bonding_ with a _BEAN SCOUT!_" Miss Doe cheered, ruffling Edward's headfur. He growled imperceptibly through his clenched teeth, and his grip on the concealed doll tightened. "Oh, that's just _wonderful_. So many of the Squirrels don't _like_ Beans, I mean, some of the new handbooks even say to AVOID them! But that's just _wrong_, I mean, boys and girls can get along FINE, and"—she chuckled almost deliriously—"who knows? Maybe you'll end up _married_ someday!"

Edward blanched, then turned bright red and began to feel lightheaded. Veronica giggled a little, also blushing, but her expression turned to one of dismay as Miss Doe grabbed her ecstatically (but firmly) by the arm and began to drag her back out of the woods. "Come on, Veronica! _Chainsaw arrangement!_"

"W-w-wait! Denmother Doe!" Veronica wiggled and squirmed, but a being such as Miss Doe can be considered capable of nearly _anything_ if only for the reason that they won't listen to any contradictions, and so she successfully restrained the girl and dragged her back towards the dock, where a second yacht was moored next to the one Veronica had taken. "Ed_waaaaaaaaaaaard!_"

He stared blankly after her, trying to get his jumbled thoughts in order. And failed miserably even before the boat roared straight away from the dock and back towards Acorn Flats.

Understanding things was too complicated. Instead, he decided with sudden fervor, he was going to avoid them with a fiery burning passion.

Deciding to excuse himself from life for the rest of the day, Edward sat down at the foot of a tree and stared up at the sky.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Recipe For Confusion

Normally at this time of day, Gretchen would be grumbling her way through one of the pointlessly annoying activities Miss Doe routinely pulled out of the Squirrel Scout handbook, or hiding out in her cabin or the camp infirmary in order to _avoid_ said activity. She'd never really wanted to be a Squirrel Scout in the first place—she'd only joined because Nina and Patsy liked it, because her parents wanted her to "get acquainted with nature and the softer side of things", and, no matter how distasteful, it was something to _do_.

But even she would rather knit colorful scarves while skydiving than stay in that _stupid_ camp, with those _stupid_ Bean Scouts, and especially that _stupid_ Edward.

...And yet she couldn't bring herself to move from where she crouched, knees drawn up to her chin, behind Scoutmaster Lumpus's cabin.

She wasn't crying—she never cried. She wasn't even sure if she _had_ tear ducts at all.

She was...angry. That much she knew. She hated Edward because she loved him and he loved _Veronica_. He had all those doll accessories, he'd _recognized_ that STUPID Webbs girl, he _blushed_ around her...

He didn't even realize that _she_ liked him, the dumb moron! After all those punches in the gut, the heated arguments, the death threats taped to his cabin door—after all that, he _still_ couldn't tell?!?

...Yes, she was angry. But she was also..._listless_.

She wanted to strangle him, twist his oversized bill into a knot, stomp on his toes until they bled, and tell him in no uncertain terms that if he was going to ask anybody out at any time, it'd be _her_.

But she couldn't. It was as though the moment she'd actually seen the veritable _shrine_ beneath Edward's bed, her entire will to fight had left her.

...It was _really_ annoying.

"Hey Gretchen...are you all right?"

Without moving her head, Gretchen's eyes flicked to the side. Yes, she already knew by the voice that it was that aggravating monkey, but she needed to make sure that he was far enough away that she wouldn't have to annihilate him. As much as she wanted to—even considering what Patsy's reaction would be—she just didn't have it in her right then.

Lazlo cocked his head at her curiously, and she managed to scare a deep, cautionary growl out of her throat. But, as she'd half-suspected, any implication of danger was lost on the monkey, as he simply grinned and spread his arms wide.

"Do you need a _huuuuuuuuug?_"

Gretchen's fist snapped up, and she glared venomously at him out of the corner of her eye. "Touch me and you _die_."

It seemed as though he might try it anyway, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Raj and Clam, who (thankfully) knew enough to keep their distance. "Lazlo, I _toold_ you eet was useless!" Raj informed him impatiently, crossing his arms. "Trying to talk sense into a violent, angry _girl_ is like trying to talk sense into...into..."

"Lotsa violent angry girls," Clam offered.

Gretchen bared her teeth, curling into a tighter ball as she tried to block them all out.

Lazlo shook his head concernedly, peering down at Gretchen as she forced out another warning growl. "No, guys, I think she really needs a helping hand right now. She seems pretty upset."

Raj rolled his eyes, scoffing. "Ee-_yeah!_ Upset because her punching bag Edward ees _hiding_ from her! So let's go before _we_ become her _new_ ones, okaaay?"

The monkey ignored him, crouching down onto his knees and touching Gretchen lightly on the shoulder. She flinched violently, scooting several inches away from him. Deciding that the girl didn't want any physical contact at the moment, Lazlo let his hands fall into his lap, and tried his best to look her right in the eyes even though she was purposefully covering them with her arms.

"What's the matter, Gretchen?"

...After a moment, she raised her head up towards him, her gaze sharp and cold as she dropped her arms. "Have you ever," she began quietly, still fixing Lazlo with that hypnotically steely glare, "had your heart _ripped out of your chest_ and STOMPED UPON by _A THOUSAND DEVILS WEARING CLEATS?!?_"

After a pause, Lazlo shook his head uncertainly. "Nooo...no, I can't say I have..."

"And then, after they were done _stomping_, SMASHING SAID HEART WITH A JACKHAMMER, _DROPPING IT INTO A BOTTLE OF ACID_, THEN, AS IT SLOWLY ROTTED AWAY, _**THROWING SALT ONTO YOUR WOUNDS?!?!?**_"

"Ummm...noooooo...?"

"AND AFTER ALL _THAT_ WAS DONE, AND YOUR BODY WAS NOTHING BUT AN EMPTY SOULLESS _HUSK_, **BURNING YOU AT THE STAKE SO THAT YOUR ASHES WERE SCATTERED TO THE FOUR WINDS?!**"

"...Not that I'm aware of, no..."

There was a quivering pause where the question almost transformed into something meaningful, but then Gretchen balled up her fists again. "WELL, IF YOU DON'T _WANT_ TO, THEN JUST **LEAVE ME ALONE!!!**"

The outburst succeeded in knocking Lazlo back a few paces, as well as guiding a pair of nearly-frantic Squirrel Scouts to the hiding spot. "Gretchen!" Nina gasped, rounding the corner of the Scoutmaster's cabin a mere millisecond behind Patsy. "Are you okay? Is it Edwa—"

Patsy skidded to a stop, clapping a hand over Nina's mouth in horror as she noticed the presence of the Jellies.

"_Lazlo!_" she squeaked, trying to ignore the butterflies already fluttering about her stomach as she thought of him. "What're you doing—I didn't know you were—"

Gretchen grunted, shoulders tightening noticeably. Off to the side, Raj wore a slightly confused expression, as though he was trying to puzzle something out.

"I was just trying to cheer Gretchen up," Lazlo explained innocently, not exactly sure what all the fuss was about. "She seems kinda down, after all...I mean, ranting about having people's hearts ripped out and stomped on and stuff."

"_Schadenfreude_," Clam piped up from somewhere in the background.

"MMMMFT!" Nina mumbled past Patsy's hand, and the mongoose hurriedly removed it. The giraffe took her chance to glare indignantly at Lazlo. "Go away, Lazlo! This's _girl_ talk!"

Lazlo blinked, trying to process this odd-sounding phrase. " 'Girl talk'? ...Why do I have to go away for _that?_"

Patsy gritted her teeth, forcing down an instinctive giggle. Gretchen was the priority here. Not Lazlo. "Be_cause_ YOU'RE _not_ a GIRL, Lazlo. You're a _boy_."

He clearly was _not_ getting it. "Well, what else would I be?"

Clam coughed. "Gender-neutral."

Meanwhile, Raj was off in his own little world, ears flapping slightly with the whirling of his mind. "_Girl_ talk...?" he muttered, staring at his hands as he tried to count things off on them. " 'Edwa'...?" Then his eyes widened in dawning recognition, and his mouth formed the shape of a very large "O".

Noticing this, Patsy's gaze immediately switched to him, and a memory suddenly snapped back into place in her mind, making her instantly pale beneath her rich brown fur. That time when they'd sat together on the bus, she'd _told_ Raj about Gretchen's crush. He already knew, and if _he_ knew, then all of CAMP KIDNEY probably knew! _Why_ did she have to tell him?!? Well, that had been nearly the same day that Gretchen had first told her, and of course _everybody_ loves to share a secret, and she'd just HAD to tell _someone_...oh, Gretchen was gonna MURDER her for this!

"We wanna help Gretchen too! Why _can't_ we listen to girl talk?" Lazlo was insisting, spreading his arms wide. "I mean, _discussing girls_ is okay with us!"

Nina put her hands on her hips, seemingly offended by his complete and total ignorance—Patsy thought she caught a flicker of a guilty smile at the edges of the giraffe's mouth, but it was gone so fast that after a moment she wasn't sure that she'd seen it at all. "You think '_girl talk_' is TALKING about GIRLS?!" Nina demanded. "Lazlo, it's stuff GIRLS _care about_ that BOYS _don't_, like magazines and roadkill and _secret crushes_ and stuff!"

Gretchen shot the giraffe a horrifiedly murderous glare as the words slipped out, and Nina squeaked with embarrassment. Patsy's stomach clenched up. _Oh, now he knows, now they're gonna go "Oh, is this about Gretchen LIKING Edward?", and then Gretchen's going to KILL ME and Daddy's going to get all mad and Lazlo and I will never EVER go out on a date!_

_**DANG!**_

But even with this _lovely_ prospect hanging over them, what Lazlo did was throw back his head and laugh. "'_Secret crushes_'?" he repeated, chuckling in between words. "NOBODY'S got any secret crushes around HERE! I think we'd _know_ about 'em!"

The girls—and maybe Raj too—were too relieved to point out the flaw in Lazlo's logic. Patsy, however, was downright _shocked_. ...Well, later it _would_ be at the fact that Lazlo was STILL ignorant of her advances, but right then it was at Raj's discretion. _He actually hadn't told anyone. He'd actually KEPT HER SECRET._

It looked like the whiny, Lazlo-stealing elephant was good for _something_ after all.

"Ahhhh, whatever." Lazlo wiped away the last of his mirthful tears and stood up. "If you wanna do 'girl talk', we won't bug ya. Hope ya feel better, Gretchy!"

She openly bared her teeth at him.

With a final farewell, Lazlo grabbed a relieved-looking Raj and the customarily stoic Clam by the arms and led them off to some magical land of joy and laughter, known more commonly as "Jelly Cabin". Once it was clear that they were actually gone and not hanging around to listen in or anything, Nina heaved a large sigh, the color slowly rising back into her face. "_Phew!_ That was a close one!"

"I-I-I'll say," Patsy stammered, still recovering from the previous events. She took a small pause to praise any and all higher powers that she would be able to keep all of her limbs, then crouched down by Gretchen. She lightly put a hand on the alligator's shoulder, and, unlike when Lazlo had tried it, Gretchen allowed her to keep it there.

"Gretchen?" The mongoose spoke in a low, soothing voice. "How do you feel?"

Gretchen looked slowly up at her, an upset, yet forlorn expression on her face.

"...I wanna kill some chipmunks."

Patsy smiled encouragingly. "Okay."

* * *

By the time Edward woke up, the airheaded Jane Doe had long departed with her captive, and even Patsy, Nina and Gretchen had returned to Acorn Flats from their mysterious foray in the woods. In fact, it was already pushing noon, and all the other Beans were having lunch.

Once he'd managed to remember why the heck he was sleeping out in the woods, the first thing Edward decided was that enough was _enough_. Even if he _was_ in love with Veronica Webbs—and he STILL wasn't entirely sure on that point, no matter how many times his stomach burbled or how many times his head felt like it was floating—it just was definitely _not_ worth it to stand all the resultant torment. There was only so much a platypus could take before he had to fight back, and so he did the only thing he could.

He barricaded himself in his cabin.

After all the times he'd tried to hide himself away in there before, Edward had realized that the only _real_ mistake he'd made had been in allowing others to convince him to leave. Well, not THIS time, brothah—nobody was comin' _in_, and HE wasn't goin' _out_. As could only be expected, this meant boarding up all the windows with some lumber "borrowed" from the side of the Scoutmaster's cabin, nailing the door shut, checking the roof to make sure that there were no entryways in it, and training Chip and Skip to squeeze through the crack beneath the door so they could go out and bring him food.

Once he was done and fully satisfied with the results, Edward flopped onto his bed and cracked his knuckles. Nobody was gonna get _him_, baby!

This plan progressed extremely smoothly until there was a firm knock on his door around six PM.

Edward immediately tensed, leaping off his bed and pulling out his Veronica Doll Pretty Posy Popgun™, a pink, life-sized plastic toy thingy that did absolutely nothing but greatly improved one's confidence, if one was a five-year-old girl or an emotionally immature platypus. "_Who's there?!!?_"

There was a muffled sigh, but it was more tired than girly or Lazloish, so Edward relaxed. But only a little.

"It's _me_, Edward," said the voice of Slinkman. "Can I come in?"

The platypus's finger tightened around the floral-patterned trigger, and a canister inside the toy prepared to make some amusing tinkly sounds. "Try again sometime next _millennium_, sluggy!"

A pause.

"...I've got cupcakes."

...

There was a clattering sound as nail after nail was viciously yanked out of the doorframe and thrown aside, then a breathless Edward slammed the door open with bleeding fingers. "COME RIGHT IN."

Slinkman shuffled inside quickly before Edward could realize that he was empty-handed.

"Aw'right, aw'right, lay it on me," the platypus demanded, sitting back down on his bed and extending his arms like an expectant infant. "_Gimme da cupcakes_."

Shifting from foot to foot nervously, Slinkman glanced around for something to sit on—then, seeing that nearly everything in the cabin was covered with the dungs' filth, decided that standing was probably a better choice. He let out a deep breath.

"I need to talk to you, Edward."

Edward continued staring fixedly at the slug. "About cupcakes?"

Slinkman sighed again. "No, no, Edward," he began slowly, shaking his head, "it's about something more important than cupcakes."

The platypus snorted in disbelief.

"Listen...listen, Edward..." Shoot, this was going to be awkward. It _was_ a difficult topic to broach, after all...I mean, having a serious discussion with a kid Edward's age about that sort of stuff? It was hard enough talking to boys about liking _girls_, but...well, after that scene with Lazlo outside Jelly Cabin, Edward _needed_ a good talking-to. But _how_...?

Utterly at a loss, Slinkman decided to go with the direct route. "Edward, I saw what you did this morning."

Edward blinked. He hadn't been expecting anything like _that_. "What did I do dis mornin'?"

The boy was in denial. It certainly wasn't going to make this any easier. "You know what I mean, Edward," Slinkman informed him quietly, yellow face tinged with a hint of red as he tried to deal with the issue as delicately as possible. "Edward, you can't..._make a scene_ like that in public. I mean, it's _your_ business what you do on your own time, but if the Scoutmaster were to _see_ something like that...well, Edward, Scoutmaster Lumpus isn't quite as _tolerant_ of that kind of thing as other people are."

Perhaps if Edward had tried hard enough, he could have scrounged up the memory of his "incident" with Lazlo and pieced together what Slinkman was trying to say. As it was, however, in the past hours he had managed to hypnotize himself into forgetting that the event had ever taken place, and so was even more confused than before.

"Isn't tolerant of _what_ kinda thing?" Edward demanded, at the same time trying to remember the phone number of the nearest insane asylum.

Slinkman passed a hand over his eye stalks, rubbing his eyelids tiredly as he mentally composed himself. "Look..._Edward_..." he tried again, sliding onto the bed beside the boy and putting what he thought was a comforting arm around Edward's shoulders. Edward, however, began to get a little creeped out. "Edward, I _know_ it's tough being..._different_...but I want you to know that I understand what you're going through. You don't have to lie to me, Edward."

Edward's shoulders hunched up defensively, and he tried to scoot as far away from the Assistant Scoutmaster as he possibly could. For a slug, though, Slinkman had an extremely good grip, and he didn't even seem to notice Edward's escape attempt. "Is dis about the pie I ate at breakfast?!?" Edward spluttered, eyes wide as dinner plates in his fear and confusion. "Look, I _swear_ I thought it was REAL pie, not McMeusli's spinach stuff! Ya gotta believe me, I ain't no Vegan!!"

It was taking so much effort trying to figure out how to continue with the discussion that Slinkman didn't have time to actually hear what Edward was saying. "Edward...you are what you are, and nobody has the power to change that. ...Well, maybe if they get to work on that gene-splicing thi—no, no, that's not relevant. Edward...Edward, you're a very special boy, and don't think that this changes anything."

"Okay, okay, so I actually like _some_ a' my vegetables!" Edward confessed shrilly, starting to wave his arms about. "A _little_ bit! But dat's as far as it's gone!"

"I'm here for you, Edward. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm right here. And I promise I'll listen to you. I'm trying to _help_ you, Edward."

"Aw'right, AW'RIGHT! I _tried_ bein' a Vegan once, in second grade! But dat was just 'cus Mom kept puttin' da good stuff on the high shelves an' my brothers wouldn't get it for me! _IT WAS JUST A PHASE!!_"

Slinkman let out another long, slow sigh and turned to face the platypus, firmly gripping both of Edward's shoulders he looked the boy in the eye. "I just want you to know, Edward, that I'll always be here to help you," he went on very seriously. "But you're still going to have to make sure that this stays a secret from the Scoutmaster, as I said. Is that all clear?"

Before Edward could actually respond, the door flew open. "Knock knock!" announced Lazlo cheerily, striding right into the cabin as if he owned the place. He waved at the slug—"Hiya, Mr. Slinkman!"—then proceeded to direct his entire attention to Edward as if Slinkman wasn't even there. "Hey, Edward, I noticed you weren't at dinner, and Chip and Skip were getting stuff for you and were all like 'ONLY WE CAN COME IN THE CABIN!' and stuff, and all like _super spies_, so I was wondering if Raj, Clam and I could play too! That is..."

Lazlo continued babbling, but neither Edward nor Slinkman was listening. The monkey's arrival had triggered in Edward the return of the unwanted memory of their last, overly-intimate meeting, which was already making his face burn bright red as his mouth opened and closed soundlessly. This reaction didn't escape Slinkman, who looked from Edward to Lazlo and back again, then smiled indulgently as (imagined) recognition dawned on him.

"Ohhhhh, _I_ understand," Slinkman remarked serenely, interrupting Lazlo mid-rant. He stood, winking at both boys and chuckling. "Well, I'll just be going then—wouldn't want to get in the way of you boys' _rendezvous_. Ah, to be young again..."

It wasn't until Slinkman had put his hand on the doorknob that Edward managed to rip his gaze from Lazlo to stare at the slug. "WHAT?!?" he cried, voice cracking in terrified bewilderment. "_WHAT?!?!_"

It didn't help when Lazlo bounded over to Edward's side, snatching up the platypus's wrists excitedly. "Can we play super-spies with you, Edward? Huh? Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?"

Edward began to scream something else, but Slinkman was already outside, clicking the door shut behind him. "Just this once!" he called cheerfully back to them, then let loose with another round of chuckles. "Crazy kids..."

And he strode whistling into the night, blissfully unaware of the horrified shrieks rocking the cabin behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Darkness, Thunks and Doubts

A pastel pink door creaked hesitantly before swinging fully open, allowing a small dark figure out of the dark confines of the cabin into the darkness of the night. The darkishly dark figure tiptoed darkly down between the dark cabins before reaching a dark dock, pausing to consider a miniature yacht moored nearby in the—what else?—darkness.

Squinting hesitantly and running an anxious hand over the rope securing the yacht, the mysterious figure glanced around again. Satisfied with the stillness of the late hour, the figure took a deep, quivering breath, turned back to face the yacht, and jumped.

_Splash_.

The figure scrambled back onto the dock, shivering and shaking in a desperate attempt to get dry. Once sure that it had done all it could do in regards to that matter, the figure turned back, wisely felt around until it was sure it actually knew just _where_ in the dark the yacht WAS, and instead simply _stepped_ into the boat.

Once inside, the figure's confidence was restored, and a pair of hands worked quickly to untie the rope. Turning to the yacht's dashboard, the figure hesitantly traced the air above the starter switch, then stole yet another glance back at the camp it had only recently departed. Nodding twice to be sure, grinning brightly and decisively, the figure instead picked a pair of oars off the whitewashed deck and settled itself in a seat by the front of the tiny yacht, then, seeming uncertain of how useful the action would be, began to row quietly into the lake.

Although still visibly excited, it wouldn't take a college degree in psychology to see that Veronica Webbs was a little worried. Not at the thought of being caught, however—although that _was_ a concern, however incredibly far back in her mind it was—but more at _what_ exactly she was doing.

To put it bluntly, Veronica was an incredibly naïve girl. (Just in case nobody's noticed by this point.) And, in an amazingly ironic sort of way, it was her own fault—_she_ had been the inspiration for the doll that had made her father rich and famous, which had resulted in the life of luxury that had shielded her from all the cruelty of the world. She knew little of poverty because all she could remember was wealth. She knew little of hate because she was showered with love; by her father, by his employees (whose affections were almost always rooted in their pocketbooks), and by everyone she met...because even if you hate a celebrity, you'll never show it to their faces. Potentially, _their_ people could kill _your_ people. Namely, _you_.

But while she knew little of any of these sorts of unpleasant matters, there was one thing that Veronica Webbs _did_ know, deep in the bottom of her heart: loneliness. Her father was almost always busy, and likewise his associates. They had no servants, as her father was no spendthrift and wanted to save money in case the business ever went under. She had no friends because her only schooling was from a private tutor and the girls in her hometown Squirrel Scout troop thought that Veronica's obliviousness was her way of acting stuck-up. And, as has already been seen, the Acorn Flats Squirrels were either too loyal to Gretchen or too frightened of her to actually make the effort to befriend Veronica.

Consciously, though, Veronica didn't notice. She just wore her bright, cheery smile and traipsed through life thinking that everybody liked her and that there was never anything bad in the world simply because she didn't expect to see it there.

...Even so, she found it hard to escape the fact that, no matter where she went or who she was with, she was always somehow alone.

And that was why she was out in that yacht, rowing more strongly now that she was confident that that action did _indeed_ propel the boat forwards. To fill that strange, empty void in her life, she needed a BOYFRIEND. If she could have someone to hang out with, to go places with, to talk to on the telephone, to be there whenever and wherever she needed him—well, if she could have that, then she would never have to face that empty feeling again, even if that feeling was one that she was unable to consciously acknowledge.

Oh yeah, and if there was some way that she could get her first kiss or otherwise experience some limited forms of physical affection, that wouldn't be so bad either.

The yacht suddenly bumped into a sandy shore, causing Veronica to unexpectedly lurch forwards. With a muffled squeak, she somersaulted straight over the front of the boat and onto the beach, landing with a _thump_ on her head in a rather unladylike upside-down position. The oars, meanwhile, spun in midair where they'd been thrown, and with a _plunk_ and _splash_ sank into the lake.

Veronica remained there, stark-still, for nearly a full minute, wondering why in the _world_ everything had turned upside-down on her. Soon enough she figured it out, though, and managed with much struggling to tumble onto her back and right herself from there. Hands clasped fretfully over her long white nightgown, she examined the shore, hoping to recognize something in the darkness. Apparently she did, as she soon toddled off the beach in the direction of a silhouetted clump of dark, vaguely boxlike masses.

After a bit of trial and error, she managed to figure out that one of the rows of buildings was made up of cabins, and, by squinting in through the wire-mesh windows, discovered that they were _boys'_ cabins. A shiver of excitement ran up her spine as she stared at the sleeping occupants, all significantly underdressed. She'd never seen _any_ breed of sleeping boys before, and found the sight _incredibly_ interesting. Actually, it was just downright AMAZING—how could anything be fully asleep, to the point of snoring, and _still_ find ways to scratch itself in so many amazingly creative places?

Slowly Veronica moved down the line of cabins, gaping at all of the inhabitants as she traveled along. Just looking at boys in their natural habitats made her giddy—and the _things_ she saw! A walrus curled on a cabin floor in nothing but his underpants! Two loons lying rigidly across the same bed! A guinea pig with his fur up in curlers! Some yellowish...horned..._thing_ hovering nearly half a foot above his mattress!

And then what she'd been looking for that whole time—_Edward_.

She sighed whimsically, lightly pressing her bill against the mesh on his side of the cabin. He looked so peaceful, lying there with his back to her, the moon draped over him...just so absolutely _perfect_. And those pink boxers with the hearts on them—oooooh, how MANLY! Overall, he looked exactly how she thought that a boy _should_ look, and it nearly made her swoon. (Since he was pretty much the first boy in her age group that she had ever had extended contact with, she was a little biased on this matter, but her point still stands.)

A long while passed as she simply stood there, just watching him sleep. Then he groaned a little, shifting around until he rolled onto his stomach, head turning in her direction though his eyes were shut tight. A slim doll nearly tumbled from his grasp as he did so, but Edward's reflexes were even quicker in sleep than when he was conscious, and in a swift move he caught it and clasped it to his chest.

It would be very difficult for anyone to blame Veronica for letting out an extremely high-pitched, slightly tipsy giggle.

"Mmmmmfgh..." Edward began mumbling, eyebrows knotting slightly. With his voice very low and his bill half-buried in his pillow, many of the words were muffled, but every now and then Veronica could make something out. "Unffll...wanna say...i-it's..._mrffffffff_...hard...dunno...mungilftervtduncht..."

He trailed off, and for a moment it seemed as though he was finished. Then he let out a heavy sigh, clutching his doll more closely as a tiny smile curled at the edges of his lips.

"..._Love_..."

Veronica's face lit up an excited scarlet, and she was on the verge of squealing extremely loudly when Edward suddenly spasmed, a contorted expression of horror crossing his sleeping face. "FLYIN' MUFFINS! _FLYIN' MUFFINS!!_ **GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!**"

He remained there, twitching and muttering, for quite a long time. But Veronica didn't mind. Instead she sighed dreamily, resting her face in her hands. She loved Edward. Oh, how she _loved_ him. And if he loved her too...

Quietly, very hesitantly, Veronica slipped her arm through a gap in the wire mesh and awkwardly stroked the fur on top of Edward's head, quickly snatching her hand back as though she'd done something forbidden. But another secret smile crossed her face, and she cradled the hand that had touched him like it was a sacred relic.

She _had_ actually gone to Camp Kidney to ask him to go to the Blushing Rock with her so they could officially become boyfriend and girlfriend—her heart began to race at the thought—but just seeing him there sleeping so peacefully had changed her mind. She could ask him the next morning. After all, she was going to be at Acorn Flats for five more days; they could confess and kiss in that amount of time, and then when Daddy brought her home, he could take Edward too! And they could live together happily ever after for all eternity!

(It must be admitted by this point that Veronica had seen one too many _Disney Princess_ movies in her lifetime.)

Pausing for one last glance at the object of her unconditional adoration, Veronica slowly tiptoed away from the cabin and back towards the docks. Everything was perfect. Everything was absolutely positively without-a-doubt zip-a-dee-doo-dah perfect. Only a few more hours and she and her favorite Bean Scout would be going steady—heck, it was like the entire world was singing just for her!

It wasn't until she had actually gotten back into the yacht that Veronica realized that it was going to be awfully hard rowing back to Acorn Flats with both her paddles on the bottom of the lake.

* * *

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

The ceiling of the cabin shivered.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Patsy sighed, staring up at nothing. The resounding thumps hadn't awakened her—she'd been lying sleeplessly for a long time before they'd started—but she just couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. Not even when Veronica had snuck out of the cabin a while back (_that little minx, stealing Gretchen's crush, doing everything all wrong_) or when her alarm clock had read 12:46 AM or even when small chunks of wood began to rain down from the trembling ceiling.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Nina groaned, and Patsy could hear the crumpling of sheets as the giraffe girl apparently shifted onto her side. It seemed as though her friend didn't really want to deal with it either.

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

They both knew it was Gretchen, taking out her dulled, heartbroken anger on the roof. And that was why they didn't want to face it; ever since that afternoon, when she'd suddenly become broken and listless, she hadn't been the same Gretchen that they'd been friends with. It was just so hard to see her without that fiery determination, without that constant anger, without that need to beat people up for minor offenses.

_Thunk. Thunk._

_Well_, Patsy reconsidered, gingerly poking an old-but-still-painful bruise on her upper arm, _maybe not that last one._

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

"I think she should just get _over_ it already," Nina mumbled somewhat irritably, grabbing her pillow and covering her head with it to block out the noise. "I don't know _what_ happened that did this to her or why she won't tell us what it was, but it can't've been _that_ bad..."

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Patsy rubbed her eyes, muffling a yawn that wasn't coming. "Oh, Nina, Nina, _Nina_..." She shook her head slowly, voice no more than a whisper. "You wouldn't know. You've never actually _been_ in love..."

The pillow came off, and Nina's head shot up immediately. "I have _so!_" she protested shrilly, then suddenly clapped her hands over her mouth, shooting nervous glances between both Patsy and the vibrating ceiling.

"...Nina," Patsy replied more quietly, not even looking looking at her friend, "the intergalactic space captain from _Space-a-trons Eat Earth Part XIV_ doesn't count."

Nina blushed, hesitantly lowering herself back onto her mattress. That _hadn't_ been what she'd meant, but, then again, she was glad for the misunderstanding. After all, it had saved her from having to admit to her best friend who she really _did_ "like".

But she WOULDN'T be like Veronica! There was NO WAY that she was going to try to steal him from Patsy! _Never!_

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

"Things might change soon, though," Patsy suddenly interjected as though continuing some internal monologue, and it took Nina a guilty moment to realize that the mongoose _wasn't_ responding to the giraffe's own conflicted thoughts. "After all, Veronica's going to be out of here in less'n a week...after she leaves, maybe Gretchen will get back to her old self again..."

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

Nina nestled her face into her pillow, indulging in the futile-seeming wish. "Yeah. Maybe after she leaves."

_Thunk. Thunk. Thu—_

The final _thunk_ was interrupted by a _creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak_, and then with a spasm the roof caved in.

* * *

Edward moaned loudly, rolling over in his bed in a painful attempt to block out the first rays of the sun. Jeez, he'd slept _terribly!_ After he'd finally managed to force Lazlo and his Jelly buddies out of his cabin, thoroughly disinfected everything _and_ reminded himself that he had never, ever, in a million years, EVER kissed the monkey—

Edward shuddered at the accidental revival of the memory, shoving his fists into his temples until the redness drained out of his face and he could actually feel his skull pinching his brain.

Anyway, after all that, it had taken him _forever_ to get to sleep! And then the _dreams_—first he'd been an umbrella leaning against Scoutmaster Lumpus's desk, and Dave and Pingpong had randomly walked in and set him on fire...then after _that_ he'd dreamed that he was being chased by a zombie werewolf while his brothers danced the Can-Can outside some café that he somehow kept passing..._then_ he'd dreamed that he was a little blade of grass that everybody kept stepping on...

The last dream that he could remember had been _really_ weird. It had started out pretty good—he couldn't really remember what had happened, just that it had been good—but then all the Bean Scouts had started running at him, throwing _food!_ And then they had all dogpiled on top of him and then suddenly they'd been in a swimming pool and he'd been the centerpiece of a water ballet...then Chip and Skip had started hugging him, and then Raj had grabbed him and recited poetry at him, and then Lazlo had been wearing a tuxedo and Edward had suddenly been in a wedding dress and Slinkman had started yelling "Now will all boys in love with Edward please step up and stand on your heads!" and the Beans had been all _over_ him! ...Oddly enough, he hadn't really _minded_ in the dream, but now that he was awake, he just found it DISTURBING!

Well. That was the last time he'd ever let _Chip and Skip_ serve him dinner, with their mud-encrusted skin dripping unknown substances into his food. Trust them to play in the dirt and end up attracting the wrong 'shrooms.

Shivering disgustedly, Edward creaked his eyes open slightly and rolled over again—bringing himself bill-to-nose with Samson.

...

"_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!**_"

With a high-pitched "Merp!!", Samson tumbled off the bed and crashed into the floor. Edward panted heavily, gripping his sheets around him as if to shield himself from all the weirdness.

"Do I even wanna _know?!?!!?!?!?_"

Samson chuckled awkwardly, averting his eyes. "Ummmmmm...eh, you know, when people wake up, they're always so _dirty_, y'know, 'cus, um, 'cus of germs crawling on them in their sleep, and, um, I thought, y'know, it'd be nice if I, um, cleaned some people up, and, um, eh, you were still asleep, and I, y'know, thought that if I was lying down _too_ I'd be able ta', heh heh, pick off the dirty stuff easier..."

"OKAY, OKAY, I _really_ don't wanna know!" Edward interrupted. "NOW GET OUTTA MY SIGHT!"

Squeaking, Samson bolted from the cabin.

Dropping his blanket, Edward started grumbling angrily, glaring at his bed and imagining just how much Samson dandruff (and was that a small puddle of drool?) he was going to have to wash out of there. Then his hands twitched convulsively, and a sudden shock ran down his spine. "Veronica! _Veronica!!!_"

He practically threw himself onto the floor, whipping his head around frantically. Then he spotted the doll lying just beneath his end table and gave a sigh of relief, scooping her up and mechanically smoothing down her red curls. "Aaaaaaah, _Veronica_..."

Unbiddenly, his mind grafted another face on top of the doll's—the face of a certain girl who giggled a lot. (The faces were identical, but _still_...) Once again the blush burned across his flesh, and for a fleeting moment he felt as though his forehead was tingling.

"Dis's way too complicated," Edward muttered, looking away.

Maybe he would've been more sure about what was going on if he'd ever had a crush before, but Edward had never _had_ very many positive social relations in his life. The closest he'd ever gotten to being in love before, as far as he could recall, had been one time in preschool when he'd written a note to a little cat girl asking her to meet him at the playground after school. She hadn't shown up, and he'd waited for her for several hours—up until some random stranger had finally just dropped him off at the police station. And from that day forward he had bitterly hated the cat girl, never once realizing that she had never gotten his message because she very simply hadn't known how to read and he very simply hadn't known how to write.

Groaning, Edward leaned back against his metal bedframe, resting his head against the lumpy, smelly mattress. The past few days had just been the absolute oddest, most surreal, _differentest_ days he'd ever had to experience. Meeting Veronica (the _real_ Veronica, not just the toy she'd inspired), hearing her say that she "liked" him (he still wasn't completely sure what she'd meant), being diagnosed with Love (which was still painfully hard for him to accept, being the "macho man" he was), accidentally kissing Lazlo (something he still refused to admit had ever happened), having Gretchen come after him with clear murderous intent (which he _also_ didn't understand), realizing that she'd discovered his secret stash of Veronica merchandise (he had absolutely no idea why she wasn't already taunting him about it), barricading himself in his cabin (which unfortunately hadn't helped anything), having an extremely strange conversation with Mr. Slinkman (and being forced to admit to one of his deepest, darkest food-related secrets)...

God, it all sounded like a cheesy _Lifetime_ movie!

Steadying his head in his hands, Edward tried his best to think. For the past several years, the way he'd moved through life had generally involved deciding upon what he thought might make him happy and then doing it. (This wasn't always a terribly practical plan, but Edward stuck with it nonetheless.) The only problem was that, this time, he wasn't sure _what_ would make him happy. Eating breakfast? Going back to sleep? Taunting the background campers? Finding Lazlo, grabbing him and—

Edward quickly stopped the train of thought on that last one.

Instinctively, his grip tightened around his Veronica doll, and he looked down at it. His vision swam, his heartbeat skipped, and things just didn't really seem to make any sense anymore...

_Dangit._

* * *

"Oh, VeronicAAAAAAAA!! Wake up, sweetie!—Oh, isn't it _just_ like a little girl to want to sleep in, oh that's so _precious_—Come on, Veronica, dear, we're all _wait_ing for yoooooooou..."

Slowly, Veronica Webbs's eyes fluttered open, and she tried to figure out just what in the name of Edward was going on. The plush magenta seat cushion she was lying on...what was that? _Where_ WAS she?

"Oh _yeeeeeeeeeeeeeahhhhhhh_..." she realized in a hush voice, waking up a little more. "The...the yacht..."

The previous night, after she'd left the oars for gone (they'd actually been rescued by the lake monster and were now hanging in its living room, though there was no way she could have known that), Veronica had decided to merely accept that she was stuck and had gone to sleep on the boat. Since that was _clearly_ Miss Doe standing over her, face enshrouded in a larger-than-should-be-physically-possible smile, the yacht had probably drifted aground at Acorn Flats.

"Oh, you _silly_ little dear!" Miss Doe twittered once she had decided that Veronica was awake enough to withstand her. "Sleepwalking and going on one of the _yachts_, oh, how ADORABLE! I just don't know _what_ I'm going to do with you, you little _sneak!_" She playfully prodded Veronica's bill, then began to chuckle uproariously. "But you're just _absolutely_ lucky that we caught it before it drifted into the lake—you know, I have _no_ idea how in the WORLD it could've gotten untied in the first place, I'm _sure_ the girls checked that all the boats were secure yesterday evening—Well, aren't you going to say 'good morning'?"

Veronica just whimpered, completely and utterly overwhelmed.

The Denmother shrugged it off cheerily, hustling Veronica to her feet and half-dragging her off the boat, chattering all the while. Looking around, still yawning, Veronica could see a pair of Squirrels—a dog and a rabbit, it seemed—in another yacht next to hers, busily tying both boats to the dock.

"Oh, Veronica, sweetie, I _almost_ forgot," Miss Doe went on absently, Veronica's hand gripped in hers like a vice. It looked like the deer was leading her back to the cabin that she shared with—what were their names?...oh yeah, Nina and Patsy—except, for some reason, it looked like there was construction work going on over there...she wondered how it had happened, and if any of her stuff was damaged or anything...not that it _would_ be, she and all her belongings always came out of _any_ ordeal completely unscathed, but anyway, it was something to wonder about.

Veronica suddenly realized that she'd completely tuned Denmother Doe out, and quickly tried to snap back to the conversation.

"—and _that_ was when I told her in no uncertain terms that I was going to take the _watermelon!_ But enough about that." Thankfully for Veronica, it didn't seem like the Denmother had said anything too important in the interim. "Now, Veronica, are you having a good time here at camp?"

An image of Edward popped into Veronica's mind, and she nodded vigorously. "Yes, Miss Doe."

The Denmother looked down at her and all of a sudden erupted into high-pitched, bubbly laughter, leaning down and pinching Veronica's cheek. "OHHHHHHH, you're so _sweeeeeeeet!!_ Well, we've been very privileged to have you here in Acorn Flats, Veronica, and I'm so _happy_ that you're enjoying your stay!"

After that, Miss Doe lapsed into silence, save for a bit of aimless humming. Veronica just blinked up at her, not quite sure what else to do.

"Um, Miss Doe?" she piped up tentatively after a moment, shivering a little in her nightie. "I was wondering...can I go back to the Bean Scout camp? A-after I'm dressed and have had breakfast? Please?"

She _had_ to talk to Edward again, she _had_ to! She had to get him to the Blushing Rock so they could spend the rest of her stay as boyfriend and girlfriend!

Denmother Doe continued on as if she hadn't heard a word, still humming. They were just a few feet away from their destination when Veronica decided to ask again—but then Miss Doe suddenly stopped short. "Oh my, oh, I _nearly_ forgot!" she exclaimed, finally releasing Veronica's hand. "Isn't it _silly_ how these things can slip one's mind..."

For the first time since she'd met the Denmother, Veronica heard the woman's voice take on what sounded unmistakably like a serious tone.

"Your father called a few minutes ago, dear. He'll be picking you up tomorrow."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: Answerless Questions = Questions Without Answers

At first, all Veronica could do was stare at the Denmother in shock, eyes wide and jaw slack. Then her vision swam, her hands shook and her legs gave out, sinking the girl to her knees.

"Wuh..." she squeaked out, barely getting enough air in her lungs to form the query, "...wuh..._what?_"

Miss Doe's face took on a look of concern. "Is everything all right, dear? I mean, I know it's a bit of a rude awakening, but..."

Veronica grabbed the hem of the Denmother's skirt, staring up into her eyes, begging, _pleading_ for her to take back the lie. "Daddy can't be coming this soon...he...he said he'd be gone a _week_..." Slowly she sank further down, her grip slackening as she lapsed into a terrified despair. "He said...he _said_..."

Awkwardly, still not quite sure what was going on, Miss Doe patted the girl consolingly on the shoulder. "W-well, sweetie, your father told me that he'd finished with his business arrangements much sooner than he'd thought, and that the 'big board meeting' was _also_ being moved up to accommodate it," the deer informed her, the facts unusually fresh in her mind. "He said that he'll probably be in the Prickly Pines area sometime tomorrow afternoon, so he'll come and get you then."

For the first time in her entire life, Veronica was feeling genuine _panic_, sweat cascading down her face, heart thumping at several times its usual rate, thoughts racing incoherently to pacify her before she exploded. _He's not coming early, he's NOT coming early, I've got lots more time with Edward, lots more time, lots more time, LOTSMORETIME—_

_EDWARD._

Leaping to her feet, Veronica tore herself away from the incredibly bewildered Denmother Doe and bolted toward the docks. She had to get on one of the yachts, she had to go find Edward, she had to bring him to the Blushing Rock before it was too late, _they had to get together before—_

"Just where are _you_ going?"

The voice was high-pitched and girlish, but had a steely edge to it. Veronica skidded to a halt, trembling slightly. Patsy stood in front of her, arms crossed, a deceptively wide smile stretched across her face. Behind her was Nina, whose grin was equally fake.

And behind them, _Gretchen_, her eyes narrowed and sharp teeth clenched so tightly that even Veronica could see the maliciousness gleaming off of them.

"I—I—I—I—" Veronica stammered, quailing beneath the ferocity of their stares. "I was just—Bean Scout camp—_Edward_—"

"Not in your _nightie_," Nina scoffed mock-playfully, moving to block Veronica as the girl tried to side-step them. "Really, what would the Beans _think?_"

Veronica began to sweat. She didn't know _why_ those Squirrels were looking at her like that, didn't know why her blood had started to run a little cold, didn't know why she felt an overwhelming urge to start sobbing... "I—I don't know—I mean—I—"

Patsy cocked her head to the side, still feigning cheerfulness, and stepped forward. Without realizing it, Veronica flinched—but the mongoose merely put her hands on Veronica's shoulders, turning her around and steering her back into the camp. _Away from Edward—!_

"And don't even _think_ about running away from your _duties_," Patsy trilled. She was a little surprised that the platypus wasn't fighting back, but she hid it artfully thanks to an acting badge earned earlier in the summer. There was no way she could have known that Veronica didn't realize that she could or _should_ fight back. "REALLY, we're going to _all_ this trouble to give you a going-away picnic—"

"—and it _was_ our own idea—" Nina added, trailing just behind them.

"—so the _least_ you could do is _help_ a little!" Patsy finished. They were nearing the Food Terrace, where there were, in fact, party-decorating necessities stacked on the outside porch. "After all, you must have earned _soooooooo_ many decorating merit badges in your _own_ troop, and we'd LOVE to see how picnics get decorated back in _your_ hometown!"

"Yes indeedy! Oh, do _please_ enlighten us!"

Patsy and Nina continued this meaningless back-and-forth banter for quite a while as they guided Veronica through the steps of decorating for a picnic, demonstrating what to do and then _generously_ allowing the girl to finish it all up on her own. And they continued to discuss the many other things that Veronica would have to "help" them do, from addressing invitations (though those weren't really necessary) to cleaning off the outdoor tables to preparing the proper food to spreading tablecloths to any and all sorts of menial tasks. The other, seemingly-nameless, unexpounded-upon Squirrel Scouts, who had been the ones originally charged with those duties by the suddenly errant Miss Doe, merely hung back nervously, watching the little platypus girl struggle to do what she was asked without knowing exactly how or why it had all come about.

If there was any part of Nina or Patsy that felt guilty about what they were doing, that part was well-hidden. _Gretchen_ was their best friend, not Veronica, and now that Veronica was leaving, they couldn't spoil Gretchen's chance for romance.

Although, at the moment, Gretchen herself was more intent on making Veronica suffer than on indulging in any thoughts of Edward.

And Veronica just kept on waxing the picnic benches, too flabbergasted to protest—and gaining a new uneasiness about the idea of pointy teeth.

* * *

Edward _really_ hadn't wanted to see that speck of orange in the corner of his eye. Nor had he wanted the orange to sit right in front of him as he was trying to battle his way through a bowl of Oatmeal Supreme.

And it was really the last straw when the orange poked him in the forehead.

"Go away, _Leeeaaaaaaaaaaaaz_lo," Edward muttered, keeping his gaze locked on the lumpy gray-white oatmeal.

The monkey clearly had some sort of amazingly selective hearing, as that comment made his face split into an inexplicably wide grin. "Howya doin', Edward?"

Edward was too tired, too irritated, too embroiled in confusing thoughts to even be embarrassed as his unpleasant memory surfaced yet again. "I said _go away_."

Raj, a pinkish blob to Edward, started tugging on Lazlo's neckerchief. "Come _on_, Laszlo! Edward ees _much_ too unpleasant to be polluting your atmossphere!"

"Bad influence," Clam added from somewhere behind his friends.

Lazlo allowed himself to be removed from his seat, but only very reluctantly. "You don't seem as _grumpy_ as usual, Edward!" he insisted, his expression almost nearing a pout. "Whatsa' matter?"

He was rewarded for his concern with a spoonful of oatmeal, which hit him square in the face.

Raj _tsk_ed disapprovingly, glaring at Edward as he tried to drag his best friend away from that disaster area. The monkey stumbled a little in Raj's direction, but for the most part stayed where he was.

"Eef _dat's_ 'not grumpy', I'd hate to see him _mad!_" Raj snapped impatiently. "Now let's GO!"

"But _Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaj_," Lazlo whined, wiping the oatmeal off his face with the back of his hand, "I _need_ to make people feel happy! If I don't, I'll slip into the deep chasms of a soul-crunching depression that could conceivably change the course of my life and the lives of those around meeeeee!"

"..._WHAT?_"

Immediately Raj and Lazlo began to quibble over this supposed "condition", the former insisting that it was a silly excuse and the latter replying that it was an as-yet-undiagnosed medical condition he'd been affected by since birth. However, Clam, instead of putting his two cents in as he usually did, just stared fixedly at Edward, who had apparently lost interest in both the conversation and his breakfast. It was kind of...sad, actually. As a rule, Clam disliked the platypus—not only was he mean, he was also uncomfortably smelly—but it was hard to just _stand_ there when someone was looking so..._lost_. (It had been different with Gretchen, because Clam didn't hold much stock in the female kind, but when it came to fellow Beans...)

"Edward acting like Gretchen," Clam interjected helpfully.

Neither of his friends seemed to hear him.

"Coome _on_, Lazlo! You are _noot_ going to EXPLODE just because you deedn't cheer up one stoopid lousy _platypus!_"

"But we don't _know_ that, Raj..."

Clam cleared his throat, raising his voice a little. "EDWARD ACTING LIKE GRETCHEN."

"Uff _COURSE_ we knoow dat, Lazlo! Edward is ALWAYS angry, und you haff never exploded because of eet BEFORE!"

"...Mmmmaybe I exploded a little _inside_ and didn't tell you."

Finally losing the last of his incredible patience, Clam's hands shot up and grabbed both his friends' neckties, yanking them sharply down to his level and yelling very loudly into their faces. "EDWARD! ACTING! LIKE! _GRETCHEN!_"

(...Pause.)

Raj shuddered, pulling away and massaging his throbbing ears. "_Well!_ You doon't haff to be so _rude_ about it!" He glared pointedly at Clam, as if the rhino's statement had _not_ been a valid reason for interrupting his (increasingly more ridiculous) argument with Lazlo. "Besides, what has DAT got to do mit anyt'ing?"

"_Groan!_" Clam groaned, slapping a palm to his forehead. He took in a deep breath, crossed his arms, then uncrossed them and put his hands on his hips.

"Gretchen in love. Then Gretchen _not_ in love. Gretchen sad but tell Lazlo go 'way. Even though Lazlo want her be happy." Here he pointed _very distinctly_ at Edward, tapping his foot impatiently. "_Edward_ sad but tell Lazlo go 'way even though Lazlo want him be happy."

This was followed by a long and somewhat shocked silence as the other Jellies stared blankly at Clam, absolutely amazed that the normally-quiet boy had such an in-depth understanding of the situation. Heck, he knew the plot even better than the major players did!

"Gretchen was in _love?_" asked Lazlo innocently. "With _who?_"

Clam shook his head, refusing to disclose the information, but Raj was already so deep in thought that the propeller on his hat was starting to spin. Sure, he knew that Gretchen "liked" Edward—but what the hooey had Clam meant by all that other stuff? So Gretchen _didn't_ like Edward anymore...? Or—well, what _was_ the rhino talking about? _What was the connection between Edward's condition and Gretchen's?_

Raj had nearly pulled out a pencil and started a ridiculously meticulous dissertation of possible theories when suddenly he stopped, slapping himself across the face until the stinging had completely numbed his curiosity. As fond as he was of poking his trunk into other people's business, anything that involved Gretchen was _not_ to be meddled in. (That was one of the reasons that he'd never spread any gossip about her crush—he was very fond of walking on BOTH legs, _thankyouverymuch_.) And Edward himself could be pretty dang mean if he wanted to...heck, even if he DIDN'T want to.

"Hey Edward," Lazlo piped up suddenly, interrupting all other trains of thought as he leaned over the table until his face was mere inches away from the platypus's, "are you in _love_ or something?"

For a moment, all Edward did was lift his head and stare at Lazlo dully. Then, without a word, he picked up his bowl and dumped the rest of the oatmeal over the monkey's head.

Raj and Clam graciously allowed him a wide berth on his way to the door.

* * *

The nurse's office at Camp Kidney was never very busy. Sure, due to the fact that the entire campground would violate nearly every safety regulation in the country, there were always at least three injured Scouts in camp at any given time, but _still_ the nurse's office was never very busy. Mostly because Nurse Leslie unnerved just about everyone in Kidney except Lazlo (who practically worshiped him) and Samson (his most frequent patient)—more often than not, if there was a problem even as obvious as a broken limb, it would be hidden just for fear of encountering The Dread Nurse Leslie™. There were even rumors going around that, one time, a kid had come to him with appendicitis, and the Nurse had actually _removed his appendix!_

Of course, Edward knew that those sorts of stories were rubbish. But that didn't keep him from getting creeped out like everyone else.

"Yeah?" the Nurse asked in a deadpan voice, not even looking up from his clipboard as Edward wobbled across the waiting room. "Look, I _know_ those stomach rashes are contagious, but I already told _all_ the other campers that I'm _out_ of creamed—"

"That's not it!" Edward tried to roar, but it came out as more of a squeak. His legs began quivering, and not _just_ from his apprehensions about the shark...

He wished he had his Veronica doll with him. She always made him feel better.

...Well, except when the problem was so directly related to _her namesake_.

"Oh, it's _you_," droned Nurse Leslie, finally casting him a sideways glance. Edward lowered his head and stared at the floor. "I already told you that it's too late. No amount of antibodies can counter that Love now."

"I know." The statement was quiet; for once in his lifetime, Edward was admitting defeat, and it was one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. "But...but I wanted to know..."

"Look me in the eyes."

Hesitantly, Edward lifted his head and looked up at the Nurse—whose eyes were bulging freakishly with rapidly pulsing arteries bouncing on either side of them.

"EEEEE_YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!_"

When Edward had gotten down from the ceiling, Nurse Leslie's face was back to normal, and he scribbled something on his notepad. "Well," he remarked dryly, "_that_ was an interesting reaction."

"**WHAT WAS THE POINT OF—**" Edward started furiously, then stopped himself, dragging a hand down the length of his face. " 'Just fer kicks', I know, I _know_. But I'm SERIOUS here."

"So was I."

The Nurse bulged an eye at him again, but Edward just continued glowering, so the shark resumed his normal stoic expression. "You know," he told Edward sarcastically, flipping another page on his clipboard, "I bet you're a _lot_ of fun at parties."

"I get dat a lot," Edward muttered, thrusting his hands deep into his pockets. (That was, until he realized that he wasn't wearing pants, at which he crossed his arms instead.) In a strange, almost perverse way, he was glad that he'd gone to the Nurse—Nurse Leslie's sporadically eccentric personality was just what he needed to annoy him out of his depressed funk back into the angry young platypus he'd loved to hate.

...But, then again, reflecting on this fact made him _remember_ that he was in a depressed funk, and so he immediately became funkishly depressed again.

"So." Once again, Nurse Leslie's spookily-unblinking eyes bored holes into Edward's forehead, although his tone remained casual. "What did you come in here for."

For a moment Edward wondered if there should have been a question mark at the end of that last sentence. The line had been spoken too flatly for him to tell.

"_Well?_"

That one DEFINITELY had a question mark at the end, so Edward was fully prepared to answer. ...That was, until he _remembered_ the reason, and he fell even further into his depressed funk and became utterly unable to respond.

At length Nurse Leslie sighed, spinning around in his chair until he had his back to Edward. "You know, I _do_ have more _important_ things to ignore, Edward. So if you don't have anything INTERESTING for me to ignore, then I'm going to have to—"

"How do you tell who you're in love with?"

The question was spoken so abruptly that it took the Nurse a moment to register it, and when he did, the chair spun around again. The shark's expression wasn't _curious_, per se—it was just as blank and mildly superior as usual—but, for once, one eyebrow was raised.

"Getting a little plucky today, aren't we?" he inquired blandly.

Edward's fists tightened at his sides until the knuckles were whiter than the fur on top of them. His gaze was still averted, but his tone was sharp. He had to know for sure before he ended up doing something that he'd regret for the rest of his life. "_How do you tell who you're in love with?_"

After an inscrutable pause, Nurse Leslie sighed and wheeled his chair out of his office and into the waiting room, only skidding to a halt when he was right beside Edward. Which, of course, meant that he _crashed into_ Edward and sent the little platypus spinning into the wall with a yelp.

"According to my casual perusal of the subject," Nurse Leslie began, addressing the stubby little legs and waffled tail poking out of the plaster, "it's actually rather _rare_ to not know who you're in Love with. To not know it's Love, _yes_, but to not know WHO..."

For no readily discernible reason, the Nurse tugged at the elastic band of his cap until it snapped back against his rubbery pink skin. (It was actually a shower cap; one day he'd just stepped out of the shower and a moose and slug had leapt out of nowhere, shoved him into a green Nurse's gown and dragged him all the way to Camp Kidney, where he'd never gotten around to actually taking the cap off...)

"Would you happen to be what the kids these days call a 'player'?"

The legs flailed, and some sort of muffled cry emanated from within the wall.

Shrugging, Nurse Leslie looked back down at his clipboard, flipping through random pages—most of which were little stick-figure drawings of Edward with little "HA HA LOVEY-PANTS"es scrawled nearby. He quickly picked up a pen and started sketching another one. "Well, there _used_ to be a method of determining who was in Love with who, but that involved jump ropes and nauseating little poems. Thankfully that sick little cult was purged at the same time that Indiana Jones defeated the cheese ninjas in '84." Seeming satisfied with his new artistic creation, the Nurse rubbed his chin, trying to think of something that sounded convincing enough that he could end the discussion with it. "Well, there's also that old method of ripping out your pulmonary artery and seeing where it runs off to. I believe it's called 'following your heart'."

With that, he wheeled back into his office, where he quietly filed his drawings into a folder stamped "CONFIDENTIAL".

In the waiting room, Edward's legs had gone quite still, as if the boy was deep in thought. Those last words seemed to have had a profound effect on him—_"follow your heart"_. In all likelihood, he was trying to do just that, struggling to decipher his feelings and find himself a happy ending.

It wasn't until he was finally dug out of the wall four hours later that it was discovered that he had actually gone still from lack of oxygen.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: An-ti-ci-pa-tion...

_The slug woman collapsed onto the bed, chest heaving as she gasped for breath. That experience had been so surreal—how was it possible to melt into someone's eyes? How was it possible to dissolve at a touch, to be killed by a glance, to share breath without using an oxygen mask?_

_Her hands clutched the sheets as she whimpered to the empty room, _knowing_ that it had all been a dream, knowing that true Love never happened to _anyone_, and could certainly have NEVER happened to _her_._

_A soft _click_, and her arms tensed, paling from yellow to white. Her eyes swiveled around, peering behind her in sick hope, the stalks wobbling from the seemingly crushing weight of her tearing orbs. Then she took in more air, gasping, trembling, rising to her feet and turning fully around._

_There he was in the doorway, just as he had been in what had seemed so like a dream mere moments before. The light from the hallway illuminated him from behind, making him a rough silhouette, but with such divinely-carven features that she was sure she was sleeping again, formulating horridly beautiful fantasies to distract her from the terrors of her everyday life. But then the moose stepped fully into the room, his muscular arms gathering her up as easily as though she were no more than a slimy rag doll—and she did not resist. For she was melting again, melting into those eyes that, for all their angry determination, seemed so much more luscious without the yellow tint of thick glasses._

"Al_..." she breathed softly, her succulent tail curling around his legs, leaving a softly glistening trail of ooze._

_He did nothing, merely gazed at her with his piercing eyes, his wonderfully thick fur coursing against her spongy moist skin. And his lips parted, and he breathed softly, in a husky but angelic voice, meant for her hearing only—_

"SLINK**MAAAAAAAAAAANNN!**"

Slinkman jumped nearly out of his seat, scrambling to yank the paper out of his typewriter and stuff it into his desk drawer. He had only just managed to hide the typewriter under his mattress (creating a ridiculously noticeable bulge) when the door burst open and Scoutmaster Lumpus came tumbling in, panting and wheezing and looking for all the world like he'd just dashed up the side of the Eiffel Tower rather than simply climbing one flight of stairs.

"SLINKMAN!" he continued shouting, despite the fact that the (still rather flushed) slug was standing right in front of him. "SlinkMANNNNNN! _Slinkman!_ Slink-ma-AH-_ANNNNNNN_—"

The slug hesitantly tapped him on the forearm. Lumpus shot straight into the air.

"GYAAAAAAAAAGGGH! _DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT, SLINKMAN!_"

Slinkman bowed his head respectfully. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Won't happen again, sir."

"You better see that it _don't_," admonished Lumpus, crossing his arms with a snort as he felt the familiar intoxication of _authority_ once again. "How many times have I told you _not_ to sneak up on me when I am _expressly_ searching for you, Slinkman? It's BAD CONDUCT!"

"Yes, sir."

"So never, _ever_ do that again! _'Bad manners make a bad camp'_, that's what Daddy always said! And this is certainly NOT a bad camp, Slinkman! ...When Commander Hoo-ha is looking."

"Certainly, sir."

"You must remember to _keep up appearances!_ That's the way the world works, and it's served me _pre-tty_ well so far! Flash over substance, that's what I always say, Slinkman!"

"Of course, sir."

...

"SLINKMAN!"

"Yes, Scoutmaster Lumpus?"

"REMIND ME WHAT I CAME UP HERE TO TELL YOU!"

Slinkman paused and considered the order, blinking rapidly, then was force to shrug. "I...I don't _know_, Scoutmaster Lumpus...I mean, you haven't _told_ me yet..."

Stiffening, Lumpus thought this over as well, blinking at least twice as swiftly as his assistant had. (He always made sure to do that sort of thing to prove his superiority. Nobody ever noticed, of course, but then Lumpus wasn't all that superior anyways.) Then he rubbed his chin, silently mouthing the words of his command before deciding that direct force had always been more useful to him than thinking and so was the better route to go. "Well, that is exTREMEly careless of you, Slinkman!" he barked, pointing at the slug accusingly. "It's not MY problem if you can't read my mind! _I'm docking you a half a year's pay for forcing me to remember things on my own!_"

At the last sentence, Slinkman let out a heavy groan. He'd had _big plans_ for that nickel!

"ANYWAYS." The Scoutmaster fell into silent thought for a minute—well, _almost_ silent thought, as the moose was practically incapable of getting his brain to work without uttering grunts and groans at periodic intervals. "AHA!" he cried out at length, snapping his fingers with joy. "Slinkman, pack your bags and saddle up the horses! We've been invited to a _fig-nip!_"

Pause.

"A _what_, sir?"

"A _fig-nip!_" Lumpus snapped, outraged that his subordinate could be so ignorant. He waved his arms around demonstratively. "You know, you get a bunch of people together, and..._nip figs!_"

Slinkman just continued staring incredulously at the Scoutmaster, digging ferociously into the squishy depths of his sluggy mind in search of some sort of translation. "...Are you sure you don't mean a _picnic_, sir?" he inquired at length.

Lumpus blinked—and a very quick blink it was too. "A what?"

"...And, sir, we don't _have_ any horses to saddle up."

Lumpus blinked again. "We don't?"

Slinkman shook his head sadly. "No, sir, we _don't_."

"Oh," Lumpus acquiesced, rubbing his head, but his assistant got the sneaking suspicion that the Scoutmaster hadn't absorbed a single word he'd said. A suspicion that was furthered by the fact that his next words were, "_What_ were we discussing again, Slinkman?"

The poor, beleaguered little slug sighed. "A picnic, sir."

"A picnic."

"Yes, sir."

"Were we invited to a picnic, Slinkman?"

Slinkman clenched his teeth, trying his hardest not to scream. "...You tell _me_, sir."

At last a lightbulb seemed to have gone on in the moose's head—well, _over_ it, to be precise, but that lamp had ALWAYS given Slinkman trouble—and Lumpus triumphantly pumped a fist in the air. "_YESSSSSSS!_ Oh, YES we _ARE_, Slinkman!" Overcome with joy, he began to _dance_, actually grabbing Slinkman's wrists and twirling him across the room. "MISS DOE HAS INVITED CAMP KIDNEY TO A _FIG-NIP_—"

("_Picnic_, sir!" interjected Slinkman helplessly.)

"—TOMORROW AFTERNOON! Oooh, the thought gives me SHIVERS all over! MAYBE MISS DOE WANTS TO _PROPOSE_ AGAIN!"

With a flustered, embarrassed yank, Slinkman extricated himself from the Scoutmaster's grip, clutching the knot of his neckerchief and panting hard. "R-_really_, sir," he tried to reason, "I don't think that Denmother Doe is—"

Lumpus sniffed dismissively, pulling a stack of flowery pink cards out from behind his back and depositing them on Slinkman's head. "Well, she SAID it was some 'going-away' picnic for that fake NOT-_REALLY_ 'celebrity' they've got up there, and that's what it says on these boring old hand-addressed invitations," he muttered before melting back into a sappy reverie, "but _Slinky_, if you could've SEEN her _eyes_ when she TOLD me..."

The Scoutmaster continued on in similar fashion for quite some time, but Slinkman had stopped cold. Camp Kidney was invited to a _picnic_. With the entire populace of _Acorn Flats_. And all the attention would be on the _Veronica Webbs_ girl, as the picnic was in honor of her _departure_. The perfect setup for two adventurous young boys to sneak out without being missed and indulge in all sorts of hanky-panky until they got caught—!

He was going to have to keep a _very_ strict eye on Lazlo and Edward that afternoon.

"..._That's ah-MORE-ay!_" Lumpus finished in a surprisingly high falsetto before skipping over to the door. "Now, Slinkman, you make sure everyone gets ready for this beeYOOteeful fig-nip!"

He slammed the door behind him, which jolted Slinkman somewhat out of his stunned stupor, and the slug reached mechanically for the typewriter still hidden under his mattress.

"Oh, and Slinky?"

Slinkman snatched his hand back just as Lumpus opened the door again and looked in.

"Tell me when you're finished with that chapter, eh? I wanna know what happens next."

* * *

Four o'clock PM: for the Bean Scouts, this would herald the start of "Sneak Mud Into Samson's Cabin Hour". However, for the Squirrel Scouts—a more civilized race, though not by much—this meant only Afternoon Tea.

(It was really just apple juice mixed with boiling water, but they called it tea anyways.)

This "tea" was made especially by Miss Mucus, in an attempt to make Denmother Doe stop insisting that the warthog was depressingly uncultured and needed a good dose of high society. This plan hadn't really worked, but still she'd make these tasty warmful beverages on a daily basis, if only so she had an excuse to shut herself up in the Food Terrace and keep that dreadful Camp Kidney out of her sight. Usually the Squirrels would keep her company in there as they sipped their drinks, seeing as Miss Mucus always became less threatening after she'd spent a good hour or so ranting about how horrible men could be, but today...today there were other things to be concerned about.

"Are you sure that's...all right?" asked a rabbit girl hesitantly, a mug of warm diluted apple juice clenched in her hands as she watched a faraway Veronica fold origami parking meters out of tiny sheets of tissue paper.

Almondine, the Squirrel sitting next to Amber Bunny—you may remember the two of them from their roles in the excited crowd of Squirrels in Chapter 1, or as parts of the frightened crowd in Chapter 2—blinked over at her in a rather owl-like manner, which was rather fitting, seeing as she _was_ an owl. (And if you didn't know that, you've certainly missed out on a vital part of the _Camp Lazlo_ canon. Shame on you.) "Is _what_ all right?"

"_That_."

Rather than mention it directly, lest she got struck down for uttering some sacrilege, Amber merely indicated Veronica's actions with a jerk of her head. Almondine blinked a few more times, squinting in the indicated direction and adjusting her thick glasses several times before she replied. "What, the origami parking meters? Well, they're _certainly_ not up to the usual Squirrel Scout standard, but you MUST admit that the lopsided quality gives it a certain _je ne sais_—"

"Not _that!_" Amber interrupted sharply, horrified at Almondine's insane sense of style. There was, like, NOTHING special about _lopsided parking meters!_ (GASP!) It only, like, _worked_ if you had, like, some lopsided WOODCHUCKS to go with them!

...Or maybe she'd only interrupted sharply because Almondine had pointed out the wrong thing.

"_**THAT.**_"

Almondine blinked, cocked her head to the side, and pondered on this for a moment until the incredibly pointed inflection on the word "_**THAT**_" led her to the subtle clue that _**THAT**_ was what Amber was talking about. "OHHHHHHHHHHHH..." she breathed quietly, "_**THAT**_."

They sipped their faux-tea for a moment, observing silently as Veronica labored over another dozen origami masterworks under the watchful eyes of Gretchen, Nina and Patsy, who were holding Veronica's hot diluted apple juice for her in a special place in their stomachs.

"I mean, even though Veronica's like trying to steal Gretchen's crush and everything," Amber continued after a few minutes, in that special way girls have of resuming conversations after the most bizarre lengths of time possible, "I'm not sure that making her do all the work for her own party is how you're supposed to deal with that."

"I dunno." Almondine shrugged, craning her neck from side to side, as it was getting stiff. "I think I saw it in a movie once."

"Really?"

"Yeah. There were these two preschools, an all-girls one and an all-boys one, and this one girl liked this one boy, and then a pop star enrolled at the girls' preschool and fell in love with the same guy."

Well, _this_ was certainly intriguing. "How'd it end?"

The owl girl paused to think, adjusting her glasses a few times. "...I think one of the girls recited a few lines from _Casablanca_ and the other one went off in an airplane with her guidance counselor."

"Oh." Amber nodded wisely. "Sounds interesting."

"It was. I think there was a sequel, but all I can remember about it was that the three-year-old playing the male lead was just _not_ as hot as the first boy."

"They _never_ are."

Somehow, in a way absolutely incomprehensible to any male mind, the conversation returned to the original topic without any kind of visible transition whatsoever. "It'd be pointless to interfere," Almondine remarked, staring unblinkingly at Veronica's continued labor. "I mean, not if you want to get on Gretchen's bad side."

"Right," agreed Amber.

And with that, they lapsed into another one of those strange, feminine silences.

"Say, what was the name of that movie again?"

* * *

"ANOTHER party?" Lazlo gasped in disbelief, hardly able to believe his floppy monkey ears.

"_Yeah!_" Dave nodded emphatically, then looked over at his brother for confirmation, and Pingpong was nodding emphatically, so they both nodded together.

"It's _totally_ true," Pingpong assured Lazlo, as well as the rest of the crowd that had gathered around the loons' table in the Mess Hall. _This_ was why they were gossipers—it was the only way to keep their fellow Beans' attention for more than ten seconds at any given time. "Patsy told Nina, who told Honey, who told Miss Mucus, who told a bat that she was shooing out of her trailer, who told a bird, who laid an egg, which told _us_."

Dave nodded again, ever-eager to support his brother even though they had actually been told the news (and been instructed to spread it) by Slinkman. But telling them _that_ wouldn't have been half as exciting, _or_ part of their creed as avid gossipers. "_All_ true."

"True."

"Definitely."

"Absolutely."

"Posi—"

"So we're _really_ going to ANOTHER party at Acorn Flats?" Lazlo broke in again.

The loons blinked in unison.

"Um, yeah." Pingpong blinked once more, so Dave had to blink twice to keep up with him, then they both stopped blinking as the taller loon answered the question. "We kinda _just_ told you that."

As bland as it was, this double reaffirmation—imagine, not just ONE camper repeating good news, but TWO!—stirred up a huge excitement in the crowd of Beans. "A _PARTY!_" Samson was gushing enthusiastically, hopping up and down on his tiptoes. "WE'RE NOT **TOTAL** OUTCASTS! _WE'RE ACTUALLY SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE ENOUGH TO GET INVITED TO A __**PARTY!**_"

The stork Bean and the beaver Bean linked arms and began to dance while Freddy the walrus and Milt the hippo clapped in time. Chip and Skip belly-bumped in ecstasy, squealing "PARTY TIME!" as the rest of the crowd laughed and cheered.

But even with all this hyperactive derring-do bouncing around the room, Lazlo was _still_ the most excited of all of them; he had the other Jellies' elbows firmly in his grip and was very nearly spinning them around in circles. "ISN'T THIS JUST _SO_ **GREAT**, GUYS?"

"..._Intriguing_," Clam allowed with a slight shrug.

Raj shuddered and shook his head vigorously, though he stopped when that combined with the twirling started to make him feel nauseous. "NO _WAY!_" he exclaimed, shuddering convulsively. "Laszlo, you _know_ dat every time de camps get together, the Squirrels are always trying to hang me from a tree und cover me with tar und feathers! Do you find dat '_great_'? Because eet is noot 'great' to ME!"

Lazlo suddenly stopped spinning, letting go of his friends. "What? They're still _doing_ that?" He scratched his head. "Huh. I thought they stopped last month when they ran out of rope."

But he shook himself of this momentary downer and went on with his explanation. "Anyway, I meant that it's a good thing 'cus we can use the party to cheer Edward up!"

Both Dave and Pingpong immediately froze, and, if they'd had ears, those ears would be stiffening alertly. They sensed _gossip_.

"What's wrong with Edward?" Pingpong demanded—_casually_, though.

Dave's knuckles were turning white from his death grip on the edge of the table, but it was so _nonchalant_ that nobody even thought twice about it. "Yeah! What's going on with him?"

Of course they'd witnessed that scene two days previous wherein Edward had so dramatically swooned at that _last_ Bean Scout/Squirrel Scout gathering, and of course they'd seen how he'd had to visit the Nurse and how dramatically his exit from that same building had been. And, of course, they knew firsthand about Gretchen's dramatically murderous chase (though they had yet to discover the accidental "exchange" with Lazlo) and how dramatically weirdly Edward had been acting recently—though they'd only gotten a few lines of dialogue apiece throughout the story, they'd still _been_ there. And, _of course_, they had filled in the gaps in their knowledge using their incredibly fertile imaginations, and the story of how Edward the emotionally-challenged Closet Clown's "coming out" had been effectively forced by Nurse Leslie's medical examination and Gretchen's mime-scenting capabilities was already fully written out and ready for the next morning's _Weekly Bean_. But, as powerful and scandalous as the piece was, nothing beat getting some cold, hard _facts_.

Especially if they could skew those even more.

Lazlo blinked at the loons, slightly confused by their question. "What? You don't _know?_" Then he paused, and began laughing aloud. "Oh, wait, _yeah!_ I forgot, Clam only told _us!_"

Pingpong's hand shot out and he grabbed Lazlo by the neckerchief, snatching the monkey up to eye level. It was getting so hard to contain himself that he almost felt as though his calm façade was slipping. "_WELL?_" **WHAT'S GOING ON?**"

Dave had started breathing in and out rapidly, and he had to fan himself vigorously with his cap to keep from collapsing on the spot.

"Hmmmmm..." Lazlo rubbed his chin, looking around. The entire crowd of Bean Scouts had stopped their hullabaloo in order to stare expectantly up at him, eager for any sort of information they could get that would potentially allow them to embarrass Edward. Then Lazlo glanced over at Raj, who was still moaning about the horrors of getting tarred and feathered, and at Clam, whose expression was stoically blank.

Finally, Lazlo turned back to Pingpong. "...Y'know what?"

Dave just hopped out of his seat and grabbed onto his brother's shoulders, and the tag-team began shaking Lazlo back and forth emphatically in their hysterical desperation. "WHAT? _WHATTTTTT?_"

The monkey boy just beamed at them. "I really think _Clam_ should tell you. After all, he's the one who told—"

Not even allowing him to finish the sentence, the loons just _dropped_ him, lunging right over the monkey and straight at Clam. He gave a small, dry "Uh-oh" before leaping onto Raj, who spasmed with surprise, but couldn't move fast enough to avoid the gossip-crazed crowd led by the two newshounds.

"_WHAT'S UP WITH EDWARD? TELL US, __**TELL US!**_"

"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

In about the time it took for the entire lot of them to dogpile on the Indian elephant, Clam had managed to scramble to the side and jump on top of a table. Of course, with the vegetable mentality that most Beans were possessed of, nobody really realized that the little rhino had done so, and consequently he had time to brush himself down, straighten his cap, and roll his eyes before he was called upon to yell, "_QUIETTTTTTTTTTTT!_"

Everybody fell silent. (Except for Raj, who was moaning very softly.)

Suddenly, Dave and Pingpong shot to their feet and moved as if to jump onto the table, but Clam halted them with a sharp movement of the hand. "_No violence_," he admonished sternly, wagging his forefinger at them in disapproval. "Not gonna talk if violent."

The Beans looked down sadly. "Awwwwwww..."

Then Clam crossed his arms and began to think, very long and very hard. Being small and easily unnoticed like he was, Clam knew a lot about all of these Beans that they wouldn't expect him to know, and, frankly, that they'd be _frightened_ for him to know. (For instance, _Ted_, the pig guy? He was a bread addict! And the goat boy was secretly engaged to the princess of Yugoslavia!) But juicy secrets aside, this meant that Clam knew just how ruthless the Beans could be concerning someone's weaknesses, and how Scouts would be exploited and exposed countless times for things as silly as dust allergies. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to take part in adding ammo against a fellow Bean, even if that Bean was Edward; as strange as he could be sometimes, Clam wasn't the type to actively set out to hurt someone, no matter _how_ mean that someone had been to him. ...Unless the vengeance involved cherry jell-O.

"Okay," he said at length, "gonna tell you. _But_"—he held up his hands to indicate silence, as the crowd had started surging forwards again—"ONLY if get promise to be _mature_. Not gonna tease Edward, bug Edward, hurt Edward; gonna _help_. Counsel. Support. _Nice_."

This eloquent plea, so delicately worded, moved the Beans almost to tears. Wiping their eyes, they nodded in assent.

"Thanks." Taking in a deep breath, Clam let it out: "EDWARD...IN _LOVE_."

Pause.

_Explosion._

"OH MY GAWD! HE'S IN _LOVE?_"

"LOVE? **EDWARD?**"

"_BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!_ NO WAY, _NO_ WAY!"

"THIS I _GOTTA_ SEE—AW, MAN, HE'S _NEVER_ FORGETTIN' **THIS** ONE!"

The volume began to escalate again, with every Bean talking over all of his neighbors with giddy exhilaration, none of them having been prepared for an answer quite like _that_. Clam just watched the madness from his high perch and sighed, burying his head in his hands.

"Love stinks."

* * *

At that very moment, about a mile away, Veronica Webbs was having very different thoughts. Love was beautiful, gorgeous, elegant; love was something you held in your hands and clasped to your heart, listening as the two beat in chorus. Love was the thing that rocked you to bed at night, whispered soft words in your ear, held your hand as you walked through life.

It was _depression_ that stunk.

It took her a while to realize that she was depressed—at first she'd just thought that she was getting tired from arranging all those ornamental bowling balls on the Squirrel Scout picnic grounds. But, after a while, she'd noticed that, although her arms were feeling heavy, her _stomach_ was feeling heavy too. This had sent her into a panic, as she'd never felt _anything_ like that before, and thought maybe she'd gotten sick. But, feeling the weight in her stomach pull down her heart and drag a small tear into the corner of her eye, it suddenly hit her that she was depressed.

Veronica had never really _felt_ sadness before. It had just been something she'd read about in books, or heard about when her hometown Denmother started discussing _Oprah_. Her life had always been full of too much joy and contentment for depression to ever actually squeeze in.

If she was sad, why was she sad?

_Because I can't see Edward._

And she sniffled a little, and moved a few more bowling balls to finish arranging the floral pattern that her friends had so kindly shown her how to make.

At that statement, though, something very quiet stirred up in the back of her mind.

..._Friends...?_

When this strange little doubting thought popped up at her, Veronica blinked—then stopped short, nearly dropping the ball onto her feet.

_Of _course_ those girls are my friends,_ she replied to the idea, extremely confused. _Why would they be anything else?_

This satisfied her until she had put the ball down on the grass and was heading back to the Food Terrace to get another one. Then she stopped again.

_No they're not. They're _friends_. They've been nice to me._

Veronica made it all the way back this time before the tiny yet compelling voice emitted another thought, and this time there was a measure of uncertainty in her answer.

_N-n-no! Doing this is _fun!_ They're...they're probably too busy to help out. And anyways, th-they said they wanted to see how _I_ would do it._

Her troublesome thoughts persisted, probing deeper and deeper past the idyllic mist that was Veronica's mind, until finally she let out a squeak of—was that _fear?_—and shook her head frantically from side to side.

_No! No no no no NO!_

"Hey, Ve_ron_ica!"

She snapped her gaze back up, instinctively focusing on the trio of shapes sitting placidly on the picnic benches so far away. No, it wasn't that alligator girl—she still hadn't spoken a word to Veronica since their first meeting. It was...what was her name? The giraffe...Lena? Leah? Or did it start with an "N"? She could never remember.

It didn't matter, apparently, as the girl kept yelling over to her regardless of whether she was verbally acknowledged or not. "When you're done with the bowling balls, we've got a new cup-stacking method to show you! It's a _lot_ more efficient than the way you're pro'lly _used_ to doing it!"

For some reason, this comment made the giraffe and the—Veronica kept forgetting, was she a mongoose or a kangaroo?—and the girl beside her start giggling uproariously. Veronica tried smiling too, hoping that, if she did it for long enough, she'd understand their joke.

"Um, y-_yeah!_" the other girl—Patsy?—continued, wiping her eyes and pretending to look prim and proper. Normally Veronica wouldn't even see that it was a false countenance, but, for just the briefest instant, the girl's cover-up was revealed to her, and all it did was confuse the little platypus even more. "But—but for us to _show_ you, you're going to have to open up _all_ those boxes of plastic cups that Miss Doe brought from town! Or else—or else—" She couldn't help it; she began laughing out loud, gasping between her words and elbowing the stone-faced Gretchen in ecstasy. "_Or else we can't show you!_"

Open up all those cups? That didn't seem...was that really...

Veronica stomped her foot firmly onto the ground—not very hard, as she wasn't quite used to the action, but _firmly_. And with that she quashed the doubting little thoughts and allowed herself once more, convinced that she _felt_ it this time, to smile.

"Okay!" she called back to the girls, waving cheerily for good measure. "Once I'm finished with the bowling balls, then!"

And, mindless of the slight confusion melting into further giggles behind her, Veronica trotted off to the Food Terrace to complete her ball retrieval. What did those strange notions in her head mean _anyways?_ And, even if there was the SLIGHTEST chance that they WERE true, well, that didn't even _matter_.

She had no doubts that the Beans would be at the next day's picnic. No, not because she'd overheard that fact from the other Squirrels; it was just what _had_ to happen, and so she _knew_ it would be so. And, if the Bean Scouts were there, then Edward would be there too. And she would _still_ have her "happily ever after".

There was simply no other way it could be.

* * *

It's been said many times, many ways, but gossip has always traveled faster in Camp Kidney than in any other part of the world. There was once a time when practitioners in all fields would flock to the camp to observe this incredible phenomenon and try to divine its cause, though none of them could quite understand its workings. However, after much studying and note-comparing, one group of ambitious plumbers formed the theory that every Bean Scout who dwelled in Kidney for a certain amount of time would become part of a telepathic network with his fellow Beans, and so juicy rumors were passed almost instantaneously from mind to mind. Of course, this theory being impossible to prove and the plumbers being regarded as those of "lesser knowledge" (being lower in the social hierarchy than, say, cucumbers), the idea was laughed almost out of existence. But, by the same token that it was impossible to prove, it was also impossible to _dis_prove—and that might have been why, even before Dave and Pingpong had brushed him down from his wall escapade and informed him of Veronica's going-away picnic, Edward had had a sneaking suspicion of that knowledge in the back of his mind.

And so he brooded. Not just in one place, mind you—he brooded from the Nurse's office to the Mess Hall to the latrines to the woods that some other Scouts used as latrines to the area around the (collapsed) flagpole to nearly every accessible location in the camp. Of course, this made the camp's other inhabitants very irritated, as they were forced to clean up his broodings and dispose of them properly before they got anybody else depressed. Even the fact that they were all able to laugh uproariously about their knowledge of Edward's "condition" didn't help matters—he didn't even respond with so much as a "What's so funny?" or a "STOP LAUGHING, DANGIT!", which made them even more annoyed.

So it went that eventually Edward could be found brooding by the edge of Leakey Lake, concealed from casual sight by a rather high sand dune and preferring it that way. Brooding was meant to be done alone. If Edward could have his way, _everything_ would be meant to be done alone, but, at the very least, his current solitude allowed him to fully look over all the thoughts that had been swirling through his head, not just that day, but for the previous two as well.

There was no way he could skip the picnic. Well, for one thing, Lazlo would probably go looking for him—and his Jelly buddies, and the Loons, and any other interested Scout—and drag him there whether he wanted to go or not. And not going would make Slinkman suspicious, and that was the _last_ thing Edward wanted to happen right then, seeing as he'd already been the target of a bizarrely incomprehensible lecture from the slug and wasn't entirely interested in having it happen again. And not going would mean that he'd miss out on his one chance of the summer to eat something other than McMeusli's putridly organic mush, and that he'd miss out on being able to use properly-functioning toilets (as long as nobody noticed him ducking into the girls' bathroom), and lose the opportunity to laugh at Raj getting tarred and feathered again.

More than all that, though, he'd be cheating Veronica. He didn't know how and he wasn't sure why, but that meant that, in all events, he had to go.

But to do _what?_ Make a fool out of himself? Heck, he'd been doing _that_ enough his whole LIFE. To say goodbye? _Why?_ The girl had given him some of the scariest and most disturbing moments of his career as an adolescent! Normally, the only goodbye he'd want to give to someone like that would be a _mocking_ one, or a violently painful one!

...He needed to go because he needed an answer. An answer to the questions he'd asked and the questions he hadn't even dared to _think_.

But not an answer from her. An answer from _himself_.

Reflexively, Edward's hands clenched more tightly around his felt cap, which he was holding just above his lap. A heartbeat passed.

And somehow his future seemed outlined in front of him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Heart To Heart And Soul To Mouth

Nobody in either Camp Kidney or Acorn Flats could tell you much about the morning leading up to the picnic. Both sects of Scouts and Troop Leaders were too busy rushing around, trying to coordinate things, find some form of food, or even just contain their excitement. Even if it's a party to say goodbye to someone, a party is _still_ a party, and it's impossible to even _think_ of that word without already feeling your heart speed up and your hands start to sweat.

_Picnic picnic party picnic party picnic party party..._

Each and every hour passed like an incomprehensible blur, characterized only by impatience, excitement, and overall _exhilaration_. Absolutely NOBODY could resist this intoxicating aura—even the angstiest characters with the most personal problems and the greatest aversions to social gatherings couldn't help but get swept up in it all.

For better or worse, it would be a picnic to remember.

It seemed only five seconds after daybreak that the call came for twelve noon and departure, and the Beans, most of whom had been lined up on the docks since the moment they'd finished breakfast, _immediately_ lunged into the canoes and started paddling like their lives depended on it. Which meant, of course, that Lumpus and Slinkman, arriving at Leakey Lake mere _nanoseconds_ too late, had to squeeze into the last boat with the Jellies.

"All aboard who's going aboard!" Lazlo called cheerfully to the empty shores, fiddling with the knot securing the canoe to the dock while Clam made foghorn noises behind him. "Preparing to cast off!"

Lumpus growled with impatience. "Just hurry _up!_" he snapped, then sniffled indignantly. "I don't want to keep my BRIDE-TO-BE _waiting_."

Slinkman groaned. Raj just shivered, mumbling ancient Hindu spells meant to protect the utterer against public humiliation by prepubescent girls.

Lazlo merely shrugged at the Scoutmaster, grin still glowing brightly, and waited a moment more with his hand still on the rope. "Last call...anybody...?"

"_**WAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!**_"

All of a sudden Edward _burst_ over the horizon, sprinting frantically towards the canoe with one hand tugging his shirt over his head and the other clamped tightly around his cap. Startled by Edward's cry, Lazlo accidentally dropped the rope, and the canoe had already drifted several feet into the lake by the time that the platypus had actually reached the dock. But he didn't even slow down, instead _leaping_ off the rickety structure and straight into the boat, huffing and panting as the little dinghy shuddered under the impact.

Clam held up a card reading "9.1".

"Stupid polliwog!" Lumpus snapped, scrambling to get a solid grip on the edge of the violently-rocking canoe. "Dagnabbit, you almost got my _wedding suit_ all wet!"

(Some of the less-educated, taking only a cursory glance, would think that Lumpus's "wedding suit" looked almost _exactly_ like his Scoutmaster's uniform. However, they miss the all-important fact that his wedding suit was made of cotton instead of polyester.)

Edward didn't respond, instead just keeping his eyes focused on his shoes. He didn't even seem to notice Lazlo's attempts to inconspicuously tug the platypus off of Raj, whom he had landed on and who was protesting quite loudly. Not that anyone bothered to listen.

But Slinkman noticed these goings-on, and the little slug blanched whiter than newly-washed linen. The detail was infinitesimally small, and he appeared to be the only one aware of it, but as Lazlo was trying to move Edward, the platypus was sliding slightly-but-surely _towards Lazlo's lap_. Terrified, Slinkman started waving frantically at the boys, shooting horrified glances at Scoutmaster Lumpus in fear that Lazlo and Edward's "secret relationship" (oh, he had imagined up VOLUMES of material on that point) would be outed by their frighteningly blatant canoodling. They didn't look up. Slinkman waved harder. Raj stopped complaining due to a sudden lack of breath. Slinkman waved even harder.

Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Here," said Clam, handing the slug an oversized flyswatter. "Better for getting bugs."

Making an exasperated noise, Slinkman snatched it up and stowed it in his pocket, and when he looked back at the Beans on the other side of the canoe, Edward had finally been eased off of his elephantine cushion and was firmly squished between both the understandably grumpy Raj and the eternally-grinning Lazlo. The Assistant Scoutmaster breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Lazlo and Edward were a little _too_ close together—by about one-tenth of an inch or so—but, judging by the small dimensions of the boat, that could easily be explained away. As well, Edward's oddly quiet demeanor wasn't one to immediately invoke the thought of romance. All in all, it looked like the "secret lovebirds" would be safe.

Still, Slinkman resolved as the canoe continued rocking slowly across the lake, he _was_ going to have to watch them VERY CLOSELY.

* * *

The rowers of that canoe having been substantially less energetic than those that had gone before them, the current focal group arrived nearly half an hour late, and the picnic was already in full swing. Although still mostly in their separate Beans-only and Squirrels-only groups, everyone was talking, laughing, eating cake, and admiring the charmingly lopsided origami parking meters propped up on each table. Some Scouts had even snatched off the tablecloths and spread them out on the lush green lawn so they could have a _proper_ picnic. ...Though one could argue that it would be impossible to have a "_proper_ picnic" at Acorn Flats, seeing as the stale perfume routinely sprayed all over the cabins had killed off the entire ant population on that shore of Leakey Lake. But that was a minor detail.

At the moment, the only people standing by the buffet tables were Miss Doe, Miss Mucus and, surprisingly, Commander Hoo-Ha. No one quite knew how he had found out about the party or even why he had bothered to show up, but he seemed to be quite at home, barking out dubious-sounding compliments and spending an awful lot of time "policing" the dwindling supply of vanilla-frosted cupcakes. At the moment, he was trying futilely to engage Miss Mucus in a discussion about the merits of having snakes in the military, but, seeing as the only response the warthog would give was in the form of throaty grunts, he turned his attention to Miss Doe, who was eager to babble with anyone about _anything_ whether she understood the conversation topic or not.

Of course, out of the group just arriving in the ramshackle canoe, only Lumpus and Slinkman really noticed to these happenings—Slinkman because it was his duty as a (sort of) authority figure to observe the doings of other authority figures, and Lumpus because he had been expressly searching for Miss Doe at the time. The sight of Commander Hoo-Ha, however, was enough to send him into a complete nervous tizzy, during which he fretted fearfully over the repercussions of having his beloved Miss Doe propose to him in front of his superior officer. So of course this meant that Slinkman was forced to calm down the Scoutmaster, which required a lot of reassuring pats on the back and attempting to mollify him with shiny objects, all of which meant that the slug was unable to pay as much attention to the boys as he had intended.

And so he completely missed the fact that, right after the Beans exited the canoe, Lazlo roughly grabbed Edward's hand and started yanking him towards the buffet table.

"C'mon, Edward!" he cried enthusiastically, smiling extra-wide in an attempt to cheer his companion up. "Let's go find a blanket before everyone else takes them!"

The platypus didn't even _react_. He just slid his hand out of Lazlo's grasp and walked away.

Lazlo just stood there, blinking frozenly, fingers still curled around an imaginary palm. A moment more and he might have gotten enough wits to turn and call for Edward to come back, but Raj pounced on him before that, shaking the monkey by the shoulders.

"WHAT WAS DAT _SACRILEGE?_" steamed the elephant, trunk flaring indignantly. "YOU WERE _JOOST_ GOING TO GO PLAY WITH EDWARD UND LEAVE ME _ALONE_, WEREN'T YOU?" Clam made a small cough, and Raj stopped short. "...Oh, und Clam too, of course of course..." Then he started jittering the monkey even more violently than before. "BUT YOU WERE GOING TO ABANDON _ME_, LAZLO? _ME?_ WHEN YOU KNOW _VERY WELL_ DAT DESE **GIRLS** PLAN TO _ATTACK ME?_"

Lazlo, feeling a touch of vertigo, could only really manage to make negative-sounding squeaky noises. However, Raj was not appeased.

"HMF!" he snorted, then, before Lazlo could protest, he pulled the monkey over to a nearby patch of grass and plunked him down, sitting down rather fiercely himself. By the time that Clam had deigned to walk over and join them, and by the time Lazlo had figured out just what in the world was going on, Raj was already drawing up a blueprint for a fort.

* * *

Although Lazlo had originally made those negative-sounding squeaky noises to state that he hadn't intended to leave his friend open to attack, it might well be taken that his negative-sounding squeaky noises meant that there would _be_ no attack—which was completely and utterly true. While the Squirrels received much joy from tormenting dimmer, slower-moving Bean Scouts, and while Raj was a particularly favored target because of his tendency to scream in high falsettos, none of them had even bothered to bring their buckets of tar to that gathering.

Instead, they were more intrigued by their very own hometown _love triangle_.

Whereas the Beans had required an overly blunt statement to realize that _that_ was what had been going on, the Squirrel Scouts had only required observation of the first Edward-Veronica encounter (and Gretchen's reaction to it) to have a full and unabridged understanding of the situation. ...Minus Edward's own sentiments on the matter, of course. But they didn't care about him. He was a _boy_. Ew.

And while all of the above was just enough reason for all of them to have round-table discussions rather than tarring and feathering an Indian elephant, the fact that this party was for VERONICA, a member of the love triangle, and had been partially arranged by GRETCHEN, Veronica's rival, and that also in attendance was EDWARD, the _center_ of the love triangle..._well!_ That's even WITHOUT the fact that it was also a party in honor of Veronica's _departure_, which made the affair all the more exciting, because Edward was going to have to choose one or the other during the course of the party or else lose his chance _forever!_ So they surmised.

Thus, even though the Beans and Squirrels remained in their aforementioned separate sects, still they were all privately discussing the exact same thing...though falling mysteriously silent whenever Gretchen passed by. Her eyes might have been slightly red around the rims, but her fists were just as threateningly cocked as ever—even _more_ so—and irritating her at that moment would be tantamount to jumping into a lake of bricks. But she didn't even stop to speak to anyone; just sat down somewhere, got up to find another place to sit, and kept on with the cycle.

Normally in such a situation, Edward would be treated with the same degree of secretive fear, but the idea that he was in _Love_, of all things and of all PEOPLE, was just so hysterical that none of the Scouts could even look at him without bursting out laughing. Of course, they were further emboldened by the fact that he did _nothing_, not even gritting his teeth or tensing his shoulders. If his fists lashed out suddenly, it was because he was moving to straighten his hat. If his eyes were narrowed, it was because he was searching for someone.

He found her at the refreshment table.

* * *

Patsy Smiles was a refreshingly loyal friend. _Really_ she was. No, no, don't bring up that "treating Veronica like dirt" thing—Veronica wasn't a _friend_, she was a RIVAL of a friend, which made her just as good as dirt to begin with. Even if Patsy had felt little tiny inside surges of guilt while tormenting her, Veronica was NOT a friend, and so the "loyal friend" concept had nothing to do with her. Anyways, since Patsy was _so loyal_, if she could have, she would have been at Gretchen's side right then, comforting her, reassuring her, helping her..._being with her._

But the second she spotted her favorite monkey beau on the fringe of the crowd, all that "friendship" schmuck went flying straight out the window.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii, Lazlooooooooooooo," she trilled as she skipped over, interrupting Raj in the middle of describing their plan of action in case they were besieged. "Having fun?"

Lazlo didn't even really look up, just twisted his hands antsily in his lap. "Oh, yeah, sure, Patsy."

"A-_hemmmmmm!_" Raj flapped his arms in a play for attention. "We are making BATTLE TACTICS here, Laszlo! Do not be distracted by de _enemy!_"

Patsy favored him with a sour look and plunked herself down by the monkey boy, scooting ever-so-slyly to close the nearly three-inch-wide gap between them. "You're not busy, are you, Lazlo?" she inquired innocently, batting her eyelashes over at him. "I _really_ wanted to hang out with you at this party...it's been on my mind _day and night_..."

"Subtle," muttered Clam with a half-grin.

Raj drummed his fingers against the ground impatiently, but otherwise all was silent as Patsy strained for some sort of reply from Lazlo. He just stared at the grass before him, brow knotted, hands still thumping against each other. Then with a sudden rush he sprang to his feet, tail bobbing in the air.

"Sorry, Patsy, not right now." His tone was unusually flat, and he wore a look of intense concentration on his face. "I'll be back, though, so you can just wait here for me if you want."

Patsy's expression wavered with uncertainty, then her conflict was resolved and she beamed up at him. "Sure thing, Lazlo!"

Raj heaved a might gasp, horrified that the sanctity of his base of operations was suddenly going to be desecrated by a _girl_—not even JUST a girl, but _PATSY SMILES!_ But then he forcibly calmed himself down, reminding himself that he could always just move somewhere else with..._less contaminated_ airspace.

"Raj, Clam, you guys keep her company while I'm gone, 'kay?"

Lazlo turned and departed just as Raj's face turned stark white.

* * *

As stark and new and frightening as it was to Edward for him to think anything along those particular lines, he couldn't help but realize that Veronica looked lovely. It shook him out of his emotionless stupor to do so, but he couldn't help but realize that it was the truth. She wasn't "beautiful", she wasn't "hot", she wasn't quite "cute"...she was just _lovely._

The girl was no longer in her Squirrel Scout uniform, but instead in a plain lilac dress with short, poofy white sleeves and hints of lacy ruffles poking out from underneath the flared skirt. Nothing particularly special, or dressy, or _anything_...but enough to make Edward's heart start pounding loudly. _Ka-THUMP. Ka-THUMP. Ka-THUMP._

He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but it seemed as though his throat had gone dry. His feet were glued to the ground, his tail was standing straight up and prickling...

She turned, and their eyes met.

Then, before Edward could even blink, she was at his elbow, eyes shining and face almost about to split from the huge, overjoyed smile spreading across it. Edward gulped, feeling heat rush through his face again even as he tried to suppress it.

"Hey, Edward!" exclaimed Veronica breathlessly, and for a moment her hands hovered hesitantly above his arm as if wanting to grab hold of it, but instead she thrust them behind her back. "O-oh, I'm so _glad_ you could come, the party started a while ago and I didn't see you and I thought you might not be able to make it—"

"I'm here," he cut in gruffly, and, finding it hard to look at her, he watched the ground instead.

Veronica sucked in a quick breath—then, feeling oddly self-conscious all of a sudden, just let it out without doing anything with it. An awkward silence followed, punctuated only by the babble of surrounding Scouts, blissfully unaware that the subject of their prattle was being intensely dramatized not two feet from where they stood.

Finally, feeling that he should at least speak up, Edward raised his gaze to hers, feeling his heart speed up even as he eased his mouth open. "...uhhhh...V—"

"Um!" Veronica suddenly squeaked, shoulders jumping. Color rushed into her own face, and her hands started tapping anxiously against each other. "Edward—um—have to—um, um um—"

Her head whipped around to find Denmother Doe, who was on the other side of the table, eagerly absorbing Commander Hoo-Ha's lecture.

"...and if they can jump out of zooming biplanes with extension cords clutched in their little tiny mouths, well, that's even BETTER!" the Commander concluded emphatically, popping cupcake number two-five-one-dash-oh-nine-SIR into his mouth as he did so.

"How _fascinating!_" The Denmother's entire face radiated awe, and she didn't even blink as the bison swallowed the entire confectionery, wrapper and all, in one manly gulp. "And they don't even need to be _house-trained?_"

Edward never got to hear the answer to that pressing question, because all of a sudden Veronica's face was all too close to the side of his head, and her husky whisper of "Follow me!" seemed so intimate that, by the time he snapped out of his daze, her waffled tail was already disappearing into the crowd. Hurriedly he scrambled after her, parting Beans and Squirrels alike, and every time he lost sight of her, even if just for a moment, a bout of terror would trap him in its cold, sturdy grip.

If he lost his one chance to speak his piece, he could _never_ be truly happy.

* * *

Making people happy, Lazlo thought as he traipsed nimbly across the Acorn Flats picnic grounds, was hard work. Especially with someone like Edward; after all, how could you figure out how to bring happiness to someone when even _they_ don't know what will make themselves happy?

But that was all okay. Lazlo liked a challenge. Especially when the goal was helping someone else.

And so that's why he kept bouncing onto his tiptoes and glancing about from side to side—he just couldn't give up on Edward when the poor platypus was at his lowest, as he had seemed to Lazlo when they'd last parted. Well, so maybe he'd seemed more "deep in thought" or "detached" than anything else, but he _certainly_ hadn't been jumping for joy. Lazlo would have noticed _that_.

He wondered if Edward's recent weirdness had been because of that "Love" thing. As well-acquainted as he was with the world at large, Lazlo had had very little experience with any type of love besides the lower-cased variety, the bacterial strain that family members passed on to one another (whether consciously or not) and was shared amongst the closest of close friends. His "love" was a happy and wonderful thing, and so it confused him that uppercase "Love" should make someone so miserable. Or contemplative. Close enough.

The monkey was so caught up in his philosophical debating that, for a moment, he almost didn't see the distant figure of Edward running—actually, _stumbling_ would describe it better—away from the cluster of partygoers, heading in the general direction of the forest. And not only that, but he was in pursuit of another character, one whom Lazlo had only seen once in person but would recognize _anywhere_.

...As overbearing as Lazlo could be, given the right day and the right mood, he had a reasonable understanding of what lines were not to be crossed when dealing with someone's personal privacy. But maybe he could gain a better insight into this uppercased "Love". Or just a better understanding of the workings of the psyche. However, he cared most about Edward's well-being.

And, at the very least, he could make sure that Edward wouldn't wind up alone.

* * *

Still not even a yard away from the canoe, Scoutmaster Lumpus was draped over Slinkman's arm, sobbing noisily and phlegmily into his palms as the slug awkwardly cradled his boss's unwieldy frame.

"...and I'll DIE ALONE somewhere, Slinky—_snurrrrrk_—with _no one_ to care for me, since I'll have NO WIFE! _NO WIFE_, SLINKMAN, because—_SHNORG_—because my darling love Miss Doe will never EVER—_snerffffffff_—propose to me when she's got large married men like Commander Hoo-Ha around! Y'hear that, Slinky?—_**SHNURGLE**_—I'll die a LOOOOOOOOOOOOONELY old man—_SKERGKKKKK_—an old blind HERMIT CRAB in the middle of the forest! An' I'll be so—_STERTCHLLK_—**LONELY**..."

"There, there, sir," Slinkman muttered half-heartedly, eyes practically swiveling on their stalks in search of something else to look at. He was able to glaze over most of the picnic without much trouble, noting only the absence of anything even remotely resembling gender-integration. For a while, his gaze lingered on the nearby forest, and, as he was still partially immersed in Lumpus's soliloquy ("...and girls will never go out with me—_snukkk_—and I'll have to watch primetime TV without anyone to change the channel for me—_krggggslnf_—and..."), he was only mildly surprised to see Edward charge into the thick of the greenery.

But all his senses snapped onto the alert when he saw Lazlo head in after him.

Without even a moment's hesitation, Slinkman heaved the Scoutmaster off of him, where he conveniently landed in the bottom of the canoe without even breaking pace in his moanings. _This was bad._ (Well, Lumpus's bottomless wellspring of self-pity _was_ bad, but right then Slinkman was more concerned with the Lazlo/Edward "problem".) Yes, yes, Slinkman _had_ been young once, and WOULD have given the boys their privacy if only because of that...except for the fact that he _remembered_ being young once. And, if memory served, a wide-open public-access state-property community-maintained can't-take-a-leak-without-someone-showing-up-with-a-geiger-counter forest was the _exact_ wrong place to "be young" _in_.

At the _very least_ it was Slinkman's duty as an Assistant Scoutmaster to warn the boys of the potential consequences of their actions, and to shoo them back towards the party as soon as possible. But if he caught them in the middle of something...

...

...Well, m-maybe he could be their lookout instead.

* * *

"LOOK OUT! _LOOK OUT!_"

With a series of hideously loud crashes, Nina tripped over two decoratively-arranged bowling balls, tumbled into a group of leapfrogging Squirrel Scouts and collided head-on with the Lemmings, scattering the boys like turquoise bowling pins. She staggered, lost her balance, fell one way, started another, got back up, then started sprinting through the crowd like her life depended on it.

Which it just might well have.

"_GRETCHEN!__** GRETCHEN!**_"

A moment later Nina caught sight of a tuft of curly blonde hair and _pounced_ for it, but because of her horribly flawed depth perception she instead crashed straight into the ground, skidding to a halt with her chin just before Gretchen's outstretched legs.

Gretchen glowered dully at her from her seat in the grass. "..._What?_"

Nina gasped loudly, then sprang back to her feet, huffing and panting and in a wild panic. "GRETCHEN! GRETCHEN, GRETCHEN, _EDWARD AND VERONICA JUST WENT INTO THE WOODS TOGETHER AND IT'S __**REALLY BAD**__, I THINK THEY'RE HEADED FOR THE BLUSHING ROCK AND SHE'S GONNA TRY TO MAKE HIM HER BOYFRIEND AND THE MAGIC'S IRREVERSIBLE AND IT'S SO TERRIBLE, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO, I THOUGHT I SHOULD TELL YOU AND—_"

Suddenly the giraffe became incredibly aware of the fact that she suddenly had just about every Bean and Squirrel left at the party hanging onto her every word. "...Eeeeeeeeeep!"

Although they'd been dying to know just what in the world Nina had had to tell Gretchen, with this little "eeeeeeeeeep!" the members of the crowd hurriedly decided that maybe they weren't prepared to _actually_ die for it just yet, and hurriedly took a large step back. Dave and Pingpong rattled at the knees. Almondine gulped so hard that you could see the lump traveling down her throat.

But, amazingly, Gretchen didn't even make a sound. She just rose to her feet, eyes fixed on nothing and everything all at once. Then she slammed one fist into the other, so hard that everyone could hear her leathery skin crack with the force.

Without a word, she turned on her heel and walked away.

Understandably, this left the crowd frozen where they stood—or where they cowered, in some cases. This was _big_. This was REALLY BIG. Even though few of them really knew what was going on, with the exception of Nina, this was definitely something _REALLY AMAZINGLY BIG_.

So, by some unuttered but universal consent, the whole three-dozen-or-so of them just scampered off towards the woods as fast as their stubby little legs could carry them. The Squirrels in the crowd knew exactly where the Blushing Rock was, and the Beans were apt enough to follow them.

And even though by that time more than 7/8ths of the party had already left, none of the remaining six guests took any notice. They were all off in their own little worlds, whether in joy or misery, and had no need of any sort of confusion.

* * *

Edward was confused.

Yes, yes, yes, that was a state of mind he'd come to tolerate over the course of the previous three monstrously confusing days. But this time he was confused for a different reason. This time he was confused as to why Veronica had led him all across the forest and back in no set pattern, and, if they were just going to keep passing that same purple gooseberry bush that they'd passed five times already, why they didn't just sit down and have a discussion _there_.

"It's just a little bit farther," Veronica called faintly over her shoulder at him, pushing past that godforsaken bush again. "...I think. I've never really been...oh, I _wish_ I'd looked harder at that map..."

Edward didn't answer. He was having a hard enough time keeping his hat on.

Finally Veronica let out a little gasp of delight, and crashed through a pair of trees into a little grove that they hadn't gone through already—probably the only one in the whole _forest_ that they hadn't gone through. But for some reason this grove seemed especially important to Veronica, as she kept hopping up and down and letting out little breaths of air, and all Edward could gather was that it had something to do with the rather large rock right in the middle of the clearing.

"Isn't it _beautiful_, Edward?" she squeaked dreamily, bouncing over and staring at the rock from every possible angle she could get to. It was even more magnificent than she'd dreamed, all cool and smooth, just the right height for a couple to lean against, exuding a wondrous aura of _love_—and to top it all off, it was HEART-SHAPED!

Edward just blinked incredulously at her. _What's so excitin' about a rock that looks like a couch?_

But what he said was, "Um...yeah, Veronica, it's...a real pretty rock..."

Even just saying that name made his palms start to feel clammy again, and it was all he could do to avoid having to wipe them on his shirt. It was almost time. If he didn't say it _soon_—

His thoughts were abruptly cut off by a sudden crashing noise, and for the slightest moment Edward thought he saw..._orange monkey fur?_ His mouth opened, he blinked, and suddenly it was gone, so his mouth slid shut again. Well, yes, the leaves on that tree overhead _did_ seem to be trembling, but it couldn't POSSIBLY be for any reason other than the wind. He was just paranoid. It was nothing.

"Veronica—" he started again, just as she whipped back around from the rock and exclaimed "Edward!—"

And something _else_ rustled. Although he turned like a shot, Edward missed the curious yellow eye stalks retracting into the depths of a bush, and so, more reluctantly this time, the platypus had to put it all down to a bad case of the spooks. _It's nothin', it's nothin', nothin's there, it's all fine..._

Just for the sake of his peace of mind, Edward cast a long stare all around the clearing, watching every detail as carefully as he could. There was _nowhere_ that ANYONE could hide without his knowing it—just that big tree that was rustling slightly orange and that bush with the yellowish tint behind it and that treestump that seemed to have gotten a couple of deep alligatorlike teeth gashes in it since last he'd looked. But that was nothing. That was absolutely nothing. NOBODY was hiding anywhere.

Against his will, Edward had to let out a small, snorting chuckle. Besides those three spots—which were NOT concealing ANYBODY—then there were no hiding places where someone could remain hidden and _still_ see and hear exactly what was going on. Someone would have to be either pretty stupid or pretty desperate to hide _there!_

(...Unfortunately for Edward, the Beans were pretty stupid and the Squirrels were pretty desperate, so every one of them was concealed amongst those less-than-ideal vantage points. Even Samson, who could've sat right on top of the Blushing Rock without anyone noticing that he was there.)

Forcing himself to forget about it, he took in a deep breath, turned back to Veronica—and stopped.

"...S-s-_so_," he began awkwardly in an effort to break the silence.

She blushed a little, grinning hesitantly. "..._So_."

"Um."

"W-well..."

"...Yeah."

"Uh-_huh_."

Edward could've _sworn_ he'd heard someone hiss "_Get on with it!_", but it most definitely had to have been his imagination.

Still feeling a bit nervous, he shuffled a few more steps forwards, hoping against hope that decreasing the gap between himself and the girl would make it easier to talk. Soon enough, they were both merely feet apart, the Blushing Rock almost a tangible presence just behind them.

"V-Veronica—" Edward tried again, but was stopped by the sudden and unexpected feeling of her hands grasping his own, and her eyes suddenly locked with his.

"_I love you, Edward._"

And then she leaned upwards.

...It had been the last thing he'd expected, and there was the smallest pause before Edward realized what had happened. And then he was paralyzed, unmoving, unsure _how_ to move or even whether he should. It was the first time he'd ever been kissed _intentionally_, and it felt so _different_...softer, less abrupt...safer, more innocent...

When she hesitantly pulled away, removing herself the gentlest way possible and falling a few steps backwards, he still remained stationary, eyes slightly unfocused, taking it all in. And everything in that grove was holding its breath for him.

"...Veronica."

Veronica let out that breath first, but it was choppy, and done out of surprise more than anything else. "D-did you say something?" she asked in a squeak, flushed fully crimson.

He did it not because it made things easier—truth be told, it actually made the whole thing even harder—but, out of respect for her if nothing else, Edward raised his eyes to hers, steadying himself, and pronounced that crucial sentence with every ounce of compassion he had in his body.

"The one I love isn't you, Veronica. I'm sorry."

...For a moment, nothing in the universe fit together.

"Wh—_what?_" Her face, her eternally radiant, happy face, was contorted with...with...shock, confusion, horror, and a mix of other things that she clearly wasn't used to, as they kept slipping and sliding across her visage in alien mutations. Her hands were shaking, her knees knocked against each other, barely supporting her weight, her tail twitched, her bill was quivering up and down—

And then she stopped, brushed herself down, and smiled (almost) pleasantly at him. And she _laughed_.

"Oh, that's so _funny_, Edward!" She giggled and chuckled and chortled and guffawed, no more than a tinge of hysteria beneath her tones. "Oh, _oh_, Edward, that's—that's—that's way too much, I..."

"_It's not a joke._" Edward stood rigidly, fists slightly clenched, and kept his eyes on hers, even when the pleading horror in her expression made it almost painful to do so. "I'm sorry."

"But—but—"

It was too much for the girl's system. This was _impossible_. She put a hand—_both_ hands on the surface of the Blushing Rock, gripping the stone tightly, as though she was not merely steadying herself against it but was also trying to draw strength from it, to steal some of its magical aura to fix this horrible flaw in reality.

"—But the _rock!_" Veronica finally erupted, voice cracking as it raised in volume, panicky and desperate. "The rock, the _Blushing Rock_—it's here, it's HERE, it's _SUPPOSED TO WORK_—" Suddenly she flew at him, grasping his shoulders, jittering him back and forth even as tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes, even as Edward remained as stoic and unmoving as he had been. "**I **_**LOVE**_** YOU, EDWARD!** _**WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE TOGETHER **__**FOREVER!**_"

"...But we _will_ be..."

Before Veronica could process this statement, he'd gently removed her hands from his shoulders and lifted his cap from his head, upending it tenderly into his palm. And _Veronica_ tumbled out.

"...For a while, I _thought_ it was you," Edward began quietly, holding the doll out to her namesake once again, his eyes latched on the girl the whole time. She, meanwhile, was staring rigidly at the doll, her breaths slowing and her countenance pale. "But...every time I was happier, or more embarrassed, or _anythin'_ around you, it wasn't 'cus of YOU...it was 'cus of _her_." Suddenly a bit more aware of what he was saying, Edward twitched a little, but his gaze never wavered. "I've loved her longer'n I've known you, even longer'n I've been comin' ta' camp. But as much as you look like her, you c'n _never_ be the same person...an' that's why we can't be together. Not like you want."

Suddenly, the girl hiccuped—then her shoulders began to shake, her eyes began to overflow, and she burst out in loud, wracking sobs, her face buried in the doll's dress, wailing and sobbing and coughing and moaning, and finally she sank to her knees, letting out the most powerful negative emotions that she'd ever had in her life...and even some that she'd kept hidden for all those ten years without ever knowing that they'd existed. And she cried, and cried, mindless of her surroundings, mindless of _anything_ except the overwhelming pain in her chest that was spreading throughout her entire being.

Now at last Edward began to feel seriously awkward, watching this pitiful wreck of a girl feeling her world shatter to pieces around her and knowing that, at least to some degree, it had been his fault. Even though he'd inflicted headier physical pain on others at various points in his life, because this matter was emotional, somehow that seemed to make it that much worse. And besides, she had _loved_ him—or, at the very least, had liked him very much—and, in the end, that was what brought him down on his own knees and placed his hand hesitantly but comfortingly on her shoulder.

"I still...I still think you're an okay sort of kid, though," he said in a low voice—not quite soft, because that was something he wasn't used to yet, but reassuring all the same. The sound and the touch of his hand coaxed her face back out of her palms, and the pure unadulterated grief on Veronica Webbs's tearstricken face was almost enough to send him reeling backwards. But he held his position, tones becoming firmer, and when next he spoke he was absolutely sure of his words. "I'm real sorry I broke your heart, an' I don't expect you ta' ever forgive me for that. But, if you do someday...I'd like to try bein' your friend."

She hiccuped again, eyes widening slightly through the rainbows of moisture...but then her hands felt the doll in her grip again, and her gaze lowered sadly again. "Oh..." she sighed, starting to tremble again. "Because of—"

With an unexpected, swift movement, Edward snatched the doll from her and put it on the ground, not even looking at it for an instant. "_Not_ because a' the doll. Because a' _you_."

When had he gotten so soft? So compassionate? So..._sure?_ Two seconds ago? Two weeks ago? It was impossible to tell. Maybe he'd grown up, just a little.

Somehow, unspokenly, knowing that there was nothing more he could do, and that there was nothing more he _should_ do, the platypus boy rose to his feet again, quietly stuffing the doll back into his cap and striding away. He didn't notice the way that the bushes rustled in alarm as he approached, nor did he seem to see the clumsily-hidden children trying very hard not to make any sudden movements.

He had done what he'd had to, and regardless of any eventual outcomes, for the first time Edward could truly hold his head high and consider himself a man.

Slowly, very slowly so as not to make a sound, Lazlo lowered himself from the tree, touching down on the bottommost limb for only an instant before landing noiselessly on the forest floor. For a moment he thought he saw Slinkman hurriedly back out of a bush, as well as some Beans and Squirrels, but he didn't look long enough to make sure. He just took his time tiptoeing away from the grove, careful not to disturb anything as he departed the scene.

"See now?"

Lazlo nearly jumped out of his skin in fright when the rough whisper drifted up from beside his elbow, but his instincts kept him silent until he'd affirmed that it was indeed Clam, glancing up at him with a glimmer in his eye.

"What're _you_ doing here?" Lazlo demanded in a low voice—but stopped when he realized that, having been spying on Edward and Veronica himself, he was the _last_ one to be asking that question. So instead he resumed tiptoeing towards the edge of the forest, Clam mirroring his steps just behind him.

"See now?" Clam repeated at length.

Even without any given context, after a moment's contemplation, Lazlo felt that he had an answer. "Yeah...I guess I _do_ see. Well, about the whole 'Edward's in Love' thing, sure, and maybe..." Finding no words to accurately convey his thoughts, Lazlo instead let out a breath of air, stepping cautiously over a protruding tree root. "Maybe about Edward himself, kinda, or 'love' itself...I dunno what it is, exactly, but I _understand_." He stopped short, blinking down at Clam. "Does that sound weird?"

The little rhinoceros shook his head firmly. "Nuh-uh."

They stood there a moment longer, then Lazlo's gaze drifted back the way they'd come, and his eyes suddenly softened. "Is she...is she gonna be..."

"Girl gonna be fine," Clam assured him, patting Lazlo consolingly on the shoulder. After all, even though the monkey was a little clumsy about it, all he'd ever wanted to do was help. "Clam know lots more 'bout broken hearts than people think. If Lazlo go back, just make worse—_'specially_ since Lazlo not s'posed listen anyway."

Lazlo reddened slightly at that, though it was hard to tell under his orange fur. Still, it was tough for him not to immediately turn and rush back to the grove, seeing as his mission in life was to spread joy to others, not leave them sobbing in the middle of the woods...but, for some unknown, unspoken reason, he trusted Clam's judgment, and let Veronica be.

"...By the way," he asked as they finally stepped out of the forest and began heading back to the picnic ground, "where's—"

The sentence trailed off as his gaze reached the edge of the still somewhat barren picnic grounds, where a small Indian elephant, blushing furiously, was laughing and chatting and carrying on with none other than Patsy Smiles, both of them utterly at ease like two old friends.

A soft smile spread over Lazlo's face, and he clasped his hands together behind his back. "Never mind."

* * *

As slowly as the spying Scouts had returned from the woods, afraid of attracting undue attention if they came back all at once, there were still enough back in the picnic area by the time Edward arrived that he wasn't the least bit suspicious—in fact, this sight caused him to fully dismiss the lingering idea that his private conversation might have been overheard, simply because it seemed as though nobody had ever left the party. Though that didn't explain why Beans kept thumping him on the back and praising his "courage", or why Squirrels came up to him gushing about his "magic-cancelling powers"—none of them had seen the doll, but just the fact that he'd been able to do what he had was enough for them. Even Dave and Pingpong were pleased with the results, to the point that they were actually scrapping their idea of blowing the whole thing up as a tabloid drama. Not that Edward knew anything about the latter.

It was also a total mystery as to why, nearly the same second that he'd sat down on an abandoned blanket near the tennis court, Assistant Scoutmaster Slinkman had rushed up to him and grasped his hand, pumping it up and down and babbling about how sorry he was for "pegging him wrong", and that it was something that could happen to anyone, didn't'cha know. Then, which had _really_ freaked Edward out, the slug had given a light but jovial pat to the top of Edward's hat, and he'd had to struggle to keep it from upending and revealing his secret to the world. But Slinkman had simply chuckled and hopped merrily away, leaving behind a flustered Edward...who'd been promptly tackled by an overenthusiastic Lazlo.

But, when he'd finally managed to peel the monkey off of him and send him scampering back to his _real_ friends, Edward suddenly came face-to-face with one of the last people he wanted to see right then.

"_Gretchen_," he grumbled as fiercely as he could, raising himself into a half-crouch in preparation to defend himself—or run like crazy—if need be. "Whadda_you_ want?"

Then, with a start, he noticed something: she was _smiling_.

It was more of a "leer" than a "smile", actually, but still... As oddly friendly as it looked, it was still rather threatening, as, once again, her sharp white teeth were rather conspicuous.

"That was a good choice you made," Gretchen remarked suddenly, leaving Edward totally bewildered. Then she brought the smile-leer closer down to his own face, squinting her eyes a little. "But I'm going to do better." Her gaze flickered almost imperceptibly, and for an instant Edward got the impression that she'd been focusing on his bulging hat. "_I_ won't lose."

Then, just as Edward was about to demand an explanation, she pulled her fist back and socked him a good one, right between the eyes. And, with that, she walked calmly away.

Groaning and tenderly rubbing his aching face, Edward somehow managed to heave himself back into a sitting position, from which he observed the alligator girl, not even _twenty feet away_, giggling into her palms with her giraffe friend. And with that he promptly gave up. _Girls are SO weird._

...And then, his gaze was drawn to the refreshment table, where a small, redheaded platypus girl was leaning over Commander Hoo-Ha's elbow in search of a slice of ice cream cake, finally managing to grab, to the bison's dismay, the final sugar-frosted piece. When she turned away from the table with her prize, it was hard to miss the fact that the edges of her eyes were red and puffy, or that she sniffled twice before she was able to stick her plastic fork in the cake.

As she raised her head, slowly making eye contact with Edward, her first reaction was to quickly look away, busying herself with the powder blue tablecloth. Obligingly, he lowered his gaze as well...but, from the corner of his eye, he saw her look his way again with a wan, trembling, _almost_-genuine, _almost_-not-heartbroken smile. And he smirked softly in response, and that was the end of that.

Sure, girls were weird. But that didn't mean that they were all bad.


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue

—_One month later_

"MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIL!"

At the sound of Samson's panicky, high-pitched cry, all the half-dressed Bean Scouts immediately dropped whatever they were doing and lunged for the camp gates, where Samson's envelope-covered bike sat abandoned, the guinea pig himself busy hiding behind a nearby tree. Hearing the crashing and thudding of his peers dogpiling on his precious bicycle, he winced, moaning a little—but, as the ruckus died down, he gingerly managed to gather up the courage to go and look for himself.

And found a livid platypus growling and baring his teeth.

With a terrified "MERP!", Samson ducked back behind the tree, but it was too late; Edward had spotted him, sprinting around the bend and tackling the boy roughly to the ground. His face was a mask of horrible rage as he squatted heavily on top of the terrified guinea pig, a large cardboard box hoisted menacingly above his head.

"_WHERE __**IS**_ _IT?_"

Samson squealed, throwing his arms up over his face. "I-I-I dunno what you're talking about!"

"You dang _well_ know!" Edward snarled down at him, fingers tightening around his package. "_MY ENVELOPE_. THE ONE I GET THIS TIME _EVERY_ MONTH. 'CEPT _TODAY_, ALL _I_ GOT IS DIS LOUSY _BOX!_"

"Th-there _was_ no envelope!" Samson protested, shuddering so badly that Edward was well on his way to getting motion sickness. "Well, well yeah, there were _lots_ of envelopes, but just normal small white ones, n-not the orangeish-brownish big kind like yours! I _swear!_"

Edward brought his face threateningly close to Samson's own, teeth gritted and eyes blazing. "Ya _sure?_"

"P-p-p-p-p-_positive!_"

For a moment neither moved, and then Edward rose to his feet, pausing only to kick dirt in Samson's face. "If yer lyin', yer _toast_," he grumbled, grasping the box and stomping back into the camp while Samson struggled to regain his vision.

Once back in the safety of his cabin, Edward dumped the package carelessly onto his bed, muttering curses about "dat stupid mail system" and how "my subscription better not be _expired_". He continued on like that for several minutes before finally he ran out of steam, sighing and flopping back onto his familiar scratchy, musty sheets. A short while later, he tried to fold his arms behind his head—but his elbow bumped into the edge of the cardboard box.

"Ehhhh, might's'well open it," Edward muttered, sliding back off the bed and facing the package. It was just a normal, post-office-brand cardboard box, and although it clearly had his own name and Camp Kidney's on it, it bore no return address, making him wonder momentarily if it was just another stupid gag from his brothers. But he tore off the packing tape anyways, lifting the flaps up one by one and bracing himself against a pie in the face.

Instead, when he opened one eye to look, he saw the latest sparkling-pink issue of _Veronica Weekly_.

"Well, dat's weird..." He rubbed his head slowly, glancing over the cover. "Now why would they wrap it up wit'—"

Suddenly he stopped short, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the magazine. That cover—those images, that _caption_—

Adorning the upper half of the cover was a large pink letterhead proclaiming _"The Tenth Anniversary Of The Veronica Doll Company!"_, which he distinctly remembered having read about during the previous month, but that wasn't what concerned him. Instead, to the left, there was a photograph of _Veronica Webbs_, smiling prettily and wearing that same lilac dress as she had when last he'd seen her, directly underneath the statement of _"Founding Daughter Adds New Dimension To 'Veronica Doll' Universe In Anniversary's Honor!"_

And to the right of that...smack in the center of the page...

Suddenly seized by a violent trembling, Edward tossed the magazine aside, letting it flap onto his pillow with a resounding _whumf_. Beneath it in the box was a small stack of lined paper, each sheet covered with a bouncy cursive handwriting, and he _was_ going to read it soon, he _was_, because it would only take a moment to pull them off the top of the final item—

And stare himself in the face.

It was a small, blue, rectangular cardboard box, with a plastic screen taking up most of the front. Behind the screen, standing nearly twelve inches tall, was _him_. Or, more specifically, a platypus doll with broad shoulders and a ridiculously musclebound physique, with a perfect recreation of Edward's head balanced on top of its beefy neck.

"_Tenth Anniversary Special: The Edward Doll!"_ proclaimed the bright yellow lettering across the top of the box, and then, in smaller print beneath it: _"The Veronica Doll's Best Friend."_

And Edward just smiled.


End file.
